Page 55 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
My breath catches, a sharp pain blooming in my chest as tears well up. My hands fly to my mouth, muffling my broken words. “I didn’t mean to … I… it wasn’t…”
Tears spill freely, hot and stinging, and within moments, Leander is kneeling before me. The soft rustle of the carrier on his chest reaches my ears, but my eyes are locked on his delicate, lithe hands as they cup my face. His touch is grounding, his thumbs brushing away my tears with a tenderness that threatens to undo me.
“Focus on me, Mina,” he says softly, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos of my thoughts. His pale crimson eyes meet mine, clear and unwavering, before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“We think,” he murmurs, his words measured and calm, “with the impending addition of two more dominant male dragons, your dragoness might grow more aggressive with each cycle—until you’ve laid eggs of your own.” The weight of his words settles heavily on me, like a stone dragging me deeper into myself.
“I spoke to your mom,” Cerce says gently as she moves closer, the lantern light catching the auburn streaks in her hair. She sits beside me, her presence steady and reassuring. “You were conceived when she was in her dragon form. That means you’re stronger than most dragons—stronger than almost anyone around you.”
Her hand finds mine, cool and firm, tethering me to the moment as the room blurs with the mingling of my tears and the golden glow of the lanterns.
We return to the nest back at Malivore, the air thick with the faint, smoky tang of dragon fire and the metallic bite of old magic that clings to the stone walls. I pace the room, the creak of the floorboards beneath my boots punctuating my frustration. Abraxis and Callan have been called away—part of the vision that heralds the arrival of Klauth.
I rake my fingers through my hair, the silky strands catching on my claws. I try everything I can think of to force a vision—the sharp bite of my nails against my palm, the heat of a candle flame brushed too close to my skin—but nothing works. The tension coiling inside me tightens like a vice.
With a sigh, I flop back on the couch; the cushions sinking beneath me as I close my eyes, trying to center myself.
“What’s the matter?” Vaughn’s voice startles me, his breath warm against my neck as he leans over the back of the couch.
“I’m trying to force a vision, and I can’t get it to work,” I say, my voice edged with frustration. “I need to know if this time they got called away is the time that everything happens.”
Movement catches my eye, drawing my attention to the bathroom door. Leander steps out, steam curling behind him, the clean scent of soap and damp heat wrapping around me like a lure. A towel slung low on his hips clings to his water-slicked skin, droplets catching the light as they trace the ridges of his abdomen. My eyes lock on the muscles there, watching them flex and shift with each step.
“Maybe I need a distraction...” The words slip from my lips, unbidden, as I rise from the couch and stalk after him.
Part of me knows it’s not safe for us to be alone, not when my dragoness prowls so close to the surface. But my hindbrain doesn’tcare—it only knows that my mate is half-naked, or naked by now, judging by the damp towel discarded on the floor.
I reach his door, pushing it open the rest of the way. A low whistle escapes my lips as I drink in the sight of him. Every inch of his lean, toned body is a masterpiece, his muscles shifting under his skin with effortless grace. My mouth waters, and I feel my canines press against my lower lip.
“Mina, your dragon is showing,” Leander says, his voice low and steady, but his eyes—burning orbs of molten fire—betray him.
My mouth pops open as I take him in, his arousal unmistakable, twitching in time with his heartbeat. “Oh, I’m aware,” I purr, slipping into his room and closing the door with a deliberate click.
“Is closing the door safe?” he asks, one brow arching, a challenge sparking in his gaze.
“Pretty sure...” My eyes dart to the belts hanging on the back of his closet door. A wicked idea curls through me like smoke. “You can always bind my wrists to the bed if you feel safer that way.” A deep, rumbling purr escapes me as I undo the carrier strapped to my chest, the soft leather warm in my hands as I set it on his dresser.
Leander circles me slowly, his movements deliberate, his bare feet silent against the cool wooden floor. His gaze traces every line of me, heat pooling in its wake as though he’s assessing whether I’m predator or prey.
“We can try without the belts. I trust you.” His voice is a velvet murmur as he steps close, pressing his cheek to mine, the heat of his skin searing against my own.
His hands, rough and calloused, slip beneath the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one fluid motion. The cool air prickles myskin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his hands as they move behind me, unhooking my bra with practiced ease. It slides down my arms, a whisper of fabric before it pools at my feet.
He unbuttons my pants with slow, deliberate care, his knuckles brushing against my hips as he slides them down. His hands follow their descent, his palms grazing my thighs, the sensation sending shivers racing up my spine. I lift each foot in turn, letting him peel away the last barriers between us.
Before I can speak, his mouth is on me, his lips hot and urgent against that sensitive bundle of nerves. My breath hitches, a sharp gasp, as his tongue flicks and teases, each movement precise and devastating.
His fingers join the fray, sliding through my slick folds, the press of two digits curling inside me in a way that makes my knees buckle. Every thrust is deliberate, every flick of his tongue synchronized with the withdrawal of his fingers, only to plunge back in with rough intent.
The world narrows to the heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands, and the wild, unrelenting pressure building inside me. My dragoness stirs, clawing at the edges of my mind, her hunger tangling with mine. As I teeter on the edge, my body pulses, and clenches, every nerve alight, consumed by him.
He stops everything seconds before I tip over the edge, leaving me suspended in a vortex of need. My heart thunders in my ears, a wild, relentless beat as I stare at him, my chest heaving. His lips glisten with moisture as he licks them, his gaze dark and unapologetic. Slowly, he rises to his feet, a predator savoring his power. That bastard smirks, the flicker of amusement in his eyes igniting something feral within me.
Before I can react, his hands grip me, strong and unyielding, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. My back slams against the cold wall with a jarring thud that steals the breath from my lungs. The chill seeps through my skin, grounding me even as my body shivers with anticipation. He presses against me, his warmth an inferno that contrasts with the icy surface at my back.
Leander moves me into position with deliberate precision, his arms caging me in. Then, without hesitation, he thrusts into me, impaling me with one brutal, possessive motion. A strangled gasp escapes my lips as I stare at him in shock, his raw aggression unraveling me.Leander isn’t usually this forceful. And damn it, I like it.
His movements are relentless, hard and fast, each thrust driving me further into a haze of liquid heat and clawing desire. His face buries in the crook of my neck, and I feel the graze of his teeth—a warning, a promise. When his mouth shifts, his sharp canines sink into the sensitive flesh of my shoulder, claiming me. The sharp pain blooms into something intoxicating, a wicked cocktail of agony and pleasure that makes me gasp.
