There was no guarantee that the timing would work out. Andi could have a meeting after work for all he knew. But he caught the bus outside the Briars and took it down into town and made the transfers so that he should be on the bus that she’d take home. He kept his hood up so that no one could see his earpiece, and rested back inside its shadows, so that hopefully no one could see him. A man tried to take the seat beside him at a stop before Andi’s hospital, but the low growling sound Damian made in the back of his throat made him detour away.
And then the bus was there. The brakes hissed, the whole thing lowered, and people in scrubs got aboard. Damian’s gaze flickered over each new entrant, waiting, hoping, and just as he was about to give up, the bus doors closed and the hydraulics lifted, there was a fast knocking at the glass door.
“Sorry,” Andi apologized to the driver who’d let her aboard. “Long night,” she said.
Damian’s entire world stopped at seeing his mate again, in all her ever-so-human glory. Her long dark hair swirled around her shoulders, the way the cold outside had pinked her cheeks, her perfect, full, bitable lips, the gentle sound of her warm voice, and then she turned, and saw him.
The driver handed her her card back. “Take a seat,” he said, as she let her bus card fall to the floor.
He watched her swallow and then she disappeared from view for a second, picking her card up as the bus lurched forward. Then she returned to view and slowly walked down the aisle toward him. He could see the necklace he’d given her, its gemstone nestled against her throat.
Yes, his dragon whispered, slowly uncoiling.
“Is anyone sitting here?” she asked him. Her cheeks were flushed by more than cold now. He could almost feel the reaction she was having to him, like flashes of heat lightning, all over her body.
“It’s a free country,” he told her, just as she’d once told him, and she sat down beside him without a smile.
Damian closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. Jamison hadn’t said anything in his ear about him being in danger. He’d just been periodically reporting whether or not Damian was safe, but he hadn’t tracked all the hunters on those buses last night now, had he? So Damian knew someone might still be watching, which meant he couldn’t give anything away in public. He pulled his phone out of a pocket and texted her.
I have to see you.
More than this.
Name someplace safe.
He heard her phone buzz in her bag, but she didn’t reach for it, she just kept staring resolutely ahead.
Was she mad at him? It was clear from her text he’d finally scared her—only not in any way he’d ever wanted. She twisted beside him, her shoulder brushing his, his knee knocking hers, and she pulled her big bag over from the aisle onto her lap, where it overlapped onto his. Another turn, another stop, and she pushed her hand beneath it, using it to cover where she touched him. He felt the outline of her hand against his thigh, timid almost, and when had Andi ever been timid in her life?
Was she going to shove him away or pull him near?
Then her fingers clawed into his denim as she made a slow, deliberate, fist. Grabbing him to her. Taking what was hers. The sensation rippled through his entire body, amplifying desires he’d barely tamed in her absence. His dragon surged forward, matching him, as he felt his cock thump against the restraint of his jeans. He saw the pulse at her throat jump out of the corner of his eye as he heard her breath catch.
Her fisted hand quivered against his thigh and he took a risk, seeking it with his own beneath the cover of the bag, settling his hand atop it. Her fingers slowly splayed, sending more ricochets through him, as he wound his own fingers between them, to finally hold her hand tight, elated as he felt hers hold him in return.
She was his.
It didn’t matter how much time had passed, nothing had changed. He would be hers from now until he met his grave, and every moment in between would be worthwhile as long as she held onto him.
She let go at the next stop, got off without looking back, and it didn’t matter. He held the memory of her hand against his like a treasure map, knowing it would lead to something more.
Andi stood just outside the bus stop and her knees were shaking. It was like all of the blood in her body had fallen to the ground.
No, that wasn’t true…it was just that none of it was in her brain. Her body had borrowed all of it. It was everywhere she wanted Damian. She could imagine his hot handprints all over her, and as she made her way to her front stairs, she pulled out her phone.
I have to see you.
More than this.
Name someplace safe.
Her heart thrilled, and then she opened up her front door to find Eumie, still dozing on her couch. Hiding out at her place because the hunters had attacked them.
“That you, Andi?” Eumie whispered, opening up an eye.
“Yeah,” Andi whispered, knowing Sammy was still asleep. She made her way over to Eumie’s side. “How are you?”
“So much better, you wouldn’t believe.” They sat up. “Want to help me go downstairs?”
“You’re not opening up the bakery, Eumie.”
“No, but I need to go. It’s important.”
Andi frowned. “You can stay here as long as you like. You know that, right?”
“Yes, but I have things I need to do.”
“Who’s Orthrus?” Andi asked.
Eumie inhaled. “I would say it’s too complicated to explain, but I heard you talking to Xochitl—it’s clear you have some history—and then I heard your story with your dragon and Sammy, besides. Plus, you got me cao wu. So, let’s just say Orthrus’s descendants are relatives of mine. And on the off chance Xochitl wasn’t taunting me, I need to go make sure they’re all right.”
“But they’re after you, Eumie. How’re you going to stay safe?”
“I’ve been alive for a very long time.”
“That’s not an answer,” Andi said.
Eumie heaved a sigh and got up. Sammy had given them some sweatpants before going to bed. “Andi. I’ve been hunted before, and I’ll be hunted again. No one knows the danger more than me. I’ve lost almost all of my children to hunters over the length of my long life. Which is one of the reasons why I need to go, now. Help me get downstairs?”
Andi couldn’t stop frowning, but she let the baker put an arm across her shoulders, and they made their way outside together.
Eumie paused in front of their shop to hunt for a certain rock among the landscaping and popped a latch on its back. It was plastic, and there was a key inside. They used it to open the front door up. Inside the bakery, everything was like Andi’d last seen it, weeks ago, only the Nemean Lion seemed particularly angry this morning in its fight against Hercules—or maybe Andi was just projecting. Eumie walked into the back, and Andi followed them, unwilling to let them out of her sight.
Eumie grabbed a bag and filled it full of baked goods, proffering it over to Andi, and Andi took it like the bribe she knew it was. She looked between Eumie and the mural behind her. “How long have you been alive again?”
Eumie gave her a soft smile and answered, “Very,” before turning on their heels and walking down a short hall, to turn into a tiny room that Andi’d never seen before. It had a twin bed and a small TV, and it was clear that this was where Eumie’d been living all along. The girls had never pressed to visit. Usually, Eumie just came up the stairs with day old pastries, or all three of them went out.
It would have been a depressing space except that one wall of the room was stunning. It had been mosaicked from floor to ceiling and showed a pastoral scene of a time that didn’t exist anymore. A warm sun hung over rolling hills which had distant caves, and in the foreground, there were shepherds and sheep and trees. Satyrs chased nymphs, and nymphs chased back. One of the shepherds was playing a pipe, and Andi could almost imagine she heard it playing, as Eumie furiously packed a bag.
She realized if everything she thought about Eumie was right—and Eumie hadn’t denied it when Xochitl had called them Echidna—then Eumie’d been alive longer than her mother and uncle combined. They’d seen civilizations rise and civilizations fall, and surely everyone they’d ever gotten attached to had left or, worse yet, died. Andi was hit by a profound sense of sorrow on their behalf. “How do you do it?” she asked.
Eumie’s head tilted. “Do what?”
“Move through life still. Even when you know you’re going to get hurt.”
Eumie set their bag down on their bed and came closer to take Andi’s chin in their hands and stare straight into her eyes. “The only reason I’m still alive is because I can get hurt. If you stop getting hurt, you stop feeling, and then there’s no point in any of this, honestly. If I stopped caring, if I stopped trying to involve myself in life, if I stopped looking for people to love and who might love me, then I might as well have been buried in the back of some cave, millennia ago. People who don’t care don’t make differences, Andi.”
Andi knew it was true as Eumie said it. “But what if caring breaks you?”
“It might,” Eumie acknowledged, letting her go to finish packing. “It most likely does. But when that happens, if you can keep risking it, caring will eventually give you a reason to live and put you right back together again. You’re strong enough to keep caring, Andi. I know it.” They zipped their bag, smiled at Andi, and then offered her the spare key. “I have to go.”
“Wait…what? For how long?”
“I’m not sure, so until then, the place is yours. I’ve paid my lease through the end of the year.”
Andi started shaking her head madly. “I don’t want it—”
“I’m not asking, Andi, I’m telling. Take it. I’m not expecting you to work here. Just put up the closed sign, toss out the perishables, and make sure no one breaks in for a few months.” Eumie set the key down on their bed.
“But,” Andi began protesting, as Eumie waved their hand over the mosaic. The sheep on the hills lowered their heads to graze, the trees at the edges swayed with an unfelt breeze, and she thought she heard the squeal of a nymph. She was definitely sure she could hear the pipes playing now.
“See?” the baker said, gesturing to the wall. “My very own escape hatch. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
Andi blinked at the wall, which now seemed much more like a window. She’d gone through mirrors with Damian. Was this the same?
Eumie leaned over and gave her a strong hug. “I’ll be all right, I swear, and what’s more, I know you’ll be all right, too.”
“How do you know?” Andi pleaded. All she wanted was one one-hundredth of Eumie’s certainty.
“Because I know you.” Eumie gave her another hard squeeze. “And I love you. And tell Sammy I love her too. There’s a safe behind the flour bags in the back…the combination’s this address. Get her car cleaned for her, would you? I know I left it a mess last night, and I know she very much cares.”
“I will.” Andi’s voice broke, even though she was trying not to cry.
“I have a feeling I’ll see you again, Andi,” Eumie promised her. “And my feelings are rarely wrong.”
Andi sniffed back tears and smiled. “Don’t tell me it’s destiny, or I’ll punch you, I don’t care how old you are.”
Eumie laughed. “No. Not destiny. Just a hunch. But I think there was a reason we met. The gods put us in one another’s paths.”
“Old timey gods that I don’t believe in?”
“You don’t have to believe in them, as long as they believe in you.” They grinned. “Now back away.”
Andi did as she was told. “You’d better call me if you ever get hurt.”
Eumie placed a sincere palm across their heart. “I swear,” they said…and then stepped into the wall. Andi could’ve sworn she saw them in the scene in front of her for a second, before the image went still as the stone it was created out of again and Eumie disappeared.
Andi waited for a long moment, just staring. Eumie was gone. What a night she’d had last night, and then, what a morning. She contemplated just flopping down on top of Eumie’s bed and going to sleep right there.
And then she remembered her phone—and Damian.
Andi knew there weren’t any cameras behind her building, which was why people kept doing illegal dumping there, and Damian was alive. She needed to see him. Even if it hurt her or him or caused the end of the world. Eumie was right; she cared too much not to risk it. She went back into the kitchen, picked up the key and locked the front door, before opening up the back one and texting him the bakery’s address.
“You’re still clear, although this doesn’t seem wise,” Jamison said in his earpiece, as Damian walked to the alley behind Andi’s place. Every five minutes since Damian had left, Jamison had contacted him on their one-way connection, letting him know he was still safe—although he hadn’t offered additional commentary until now.
Damian knew Jamison was right, after seeing Andi this morning, it didn’t matter. He had no problem risking his life to see her. Not seeing her now seemed far more likely to get him killed.
And so he stood in the grungy alleyway behind the bakery beneath Andi’s apartment, steeled himself, and knocked. The door opened, and Andi was standing just inside, waiting for him, just like in all his dreams.
He took a step in at once and slammed the door behind himself as she threw herself into his arms. He caught her and spun her, pressing her against the door where he could kiss her hard, tasting her again at long last, inhaling her scent, feeling the heat of her against him. The moment almost made him dizzy, and it felt like he was high, as everything he’d been denied for so long was once again inside his grasp. He wanted to hold her inside wings, with hands, with claws, and never let her go.
He pulled back to stare into her eyes. “Do I taste alive?” he growled.
“Yes,” she whispered, almost pleading. Her arms were around his neck and her whole body was pressed against his, trying to apologize for so much lost time.
He moved them away from the door and navigated her backward into the bakery’s kitchen. “Clothes. Off. Now.” She nodded helplessly, so eager to obey, and kicked off the silly shoes that made her taller, then started stripping off her coat and scrubs. “Leave the knee-highs on,” he said, when she was down to just her underthings.
Andi laughed as she took off her bra, and it was the most melodious sound he’d ever heard. “They’re compression socks.”
He grinned at her. “I say they’re knee-highs.”
“Perv.” She beamed a taunting smile back, and it was like the fucking sun had finally found him. All the nights apart from her, all the ice around his heart, began to melt away.
“I remember what you like,” he said with a current of threat, taking a step forward, closer to her light. “Turn around,” he commanded, and she did so without question, finding herself at hip height with the countertop behind her. He leaned in, intent on her. “Time apart has made you obedient.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she said, as she intentionally wriggled her ass against him. Heat slammed through his cock and balls, and he wanted nothing more than to take her—hard. But just because they were finally together didn’t mean that he could take what he wanted now.
Are you sure? his dragon asked him.
“Touch the wall,” he commanded. She looked up at him with a full pout.
“I’d rather touch you.”
“You will. But for now, behave,” he threatened, grabbing one of her ass cheeks.
She squeaked and stretched out—it was a wide counter, her fingertips barely touched—and for a moment he surveyed her beneath him like she was his domain. He ran his hands up and down her sides, watched gooseflesh prickle on her body—from the cold counter on her pert nipples, no doubt—and leaned over her to breathe her in, whispering low at the nape of her neck. “Have you been a good princess while you’ve been gone?”
She chuckled throatily beneath him. “Why do you ask, dragon?”
“Because bad princesses get punished,” he said, drawing a languid hand up her outer thigh. “But good princesses get what they deserve,” he said, setting his teeth against her shoulder.
He felt her shiver beneath his touch. “Which do you think I am?” she asked.
Damian rose up, looking down, and caught her twisting her head to stare defiantly up at him. Here she was, in a position of pure submission, her little socked feet kicking to find purchase beside his as his hips pressed her thighs wide, and she was still utterly, inexorably, herself. He wound her hair around his hand like a rope, pulling her head back. “Both,” he told her, and started kissing down her spine.
She made small, soft sounds and writhed delightfully against him as he let her hair unspool, gliding through his fingers like silk. His mouth moved his body lower and down, until he was almost behind her, and then he knelt on his knees on the bakery’s checkerboard linoleum tile. It made sense that they were here—Andi was the perfect snack. He grabbed where her thighs met her ass, rocked her up and apart, and leaned in to kiss her.
There was no preamble, nothing slow nor subtle as he tasted her like she was Eve’s apple, and he wanted to take a bite. His lips parted to drink her in, and his tongue pushed against her as she unfurled, and then ran up her to rub her clit with its broad tip until she moaned.
“Oh, Damian,” she whispered. Her feet had stopped kicking now. She was on tiptoe, trying to stay still for him and give her whole self over. He lapped at her with his tongue, sucked on her with his lips, and worked her with his nose and chin, reaching between her legs to pull her wide with both his thumbs, kissing the dark pink space within as she kept sighing his name.
He waited until her breath sped up and her body twitched in preparation, then pulled back to survey what he had done. She was as wet as he had ever gotten her before. Everything about her was quivering and ready, slick and hot, and he brought his fingers up to finish her off where he could see, rolling her clit between his fingers until she whined and gave it up, her whole body thrashing, her pussy pulsing, watching her ache for him as he had spent so many previous nights aching for her.
She finished coming with a gasp and tried to press herself up. He knew because her feet lowered. “Are you done punishing me?”
“Not hardly,” he said, standing. “Turn over.”
“Here?” she asked, even as she did it, bringing her heels up to the level of the countertop for support, and he wrapped a hand around both her thighs, following the angry red line the edge had just cut into them.
He pushed his fingers into her because he couldn’t help himself. The temptation was too great, and he felt her hips buck against him. Her hair was tousled on the counter behind her like a dark cloud, and he leaned in between her knees. His mate was perfect in every way. He knew she was his destiny, and he only had to say it—
“Princess…I,” he began, as he rubbed her deep inside.
“Still clear,” Jamison said inside his ear, and Damian was glad their connection was just one-way—what he would say next was just for Andi.
She pulled up, balancing on one elbow, as her hand reached for his wrist to still it. “We always fight or fuck or both, Damian. There’s hardly been any in-between. Do you think you could be gentle with me? Just this once?”
His confession was swallowed by her request. He hadn’t seen her in weeks; of course he’d give her what she wanted. He nodded and pulled his hand out of hers to undo his belt buckle and unzip his jeans. His cock swung out and aimed for her the second his boxer briefs were lowered, and he took his hands and stroked them down the inside of her thighs, soft as a whisper, carefully pulling her toward him to the counter’s edge.
“Like this, princess?” he asked.
She nodded quietly, her dark eyes wide, and he wondered how big a part his perpetual violence toward her and around her had had in pushing her away, even if just subconsciously. If she didn’t feel safe asking him to slow down ever. “Princess,” he began anew, to apologize, but then her hand was between her legs again. She reached for him, touched him, and he gasped.
She pulled him closer, rubbing the head of him up and down in the line that he’d just kissed, teasing him with her slick, wet heat, listening to him moan. How had he lasted this long without her touch? He fought not to tense his fingers on her waist, to pet her body instead of pinch it, and to wait until she pushed his tip inside of her, closing her legs around his hips to draw him in. Of course she wanted him. She was his mate—even if she still didn’t know it.
“Andi,” he groaned, letting himself sink into her, feeling his thick cock slide halfway in like he belonged there, watching her as he did so, the way her eyes closed, her back arched, her lips parting in a sigh. She was fucking perfect and she fit him perfectly—because it was destiny, and he needed to tell her so before things went further and their actions swept all the words away again. “Andi,” he began again, stepping back, pulling himself out.
Her eyes focused in on him blurrily. “Damian?”
“I can’t do this anymore, princess.”
She laughed, shaking her head to clear it. “What…be nice to me?”
“No. Not tell you what you mean to me.”
He watched heat wash up her in a wave. “Damian—”
“You’re everything to me, Andi. But I don’t know what this is today for you. The end of a dry spell? Why do you want me here? Do I get to stay?”
She pushed herself up on the counter with both arms, her gaze turning bright. “I needed to see you; I thought you felt the same.”
“I do, fucking hell. But if we do this now, Andi, we can’t just stop. You can’t fold me up and put me in a box and wait to play with me later.” He tucked himself away roughly and pulled his jeans back up.
“I don’t want that, Damian, but we both know it’s not safe for us. Helicopters?” she said, her voice rising, and he took a step back as she pushed herself to fully sit up. “I saw the survivor at work last night. It wasn’t pretty.” She put a hand on his chest. “I’m not judging you. I’m simply scared for you, is all. I don’t want to give my brother’s destiny any chances. I can’t have all of everything I’ve been through without you be for nothing.” He watched her chest heave and the fear radiating off of her was almost palpable.
“What if I told you we had a destiny too?” he asked quietly.
“Damian,” she said. Her shoulders sank as she bowed her head.
“Let me finish, for once,” he said, grabbing and pulling her up until she looked at him, and he realized this was not a conversation he wanted to have while she was half-naked, nor while he was looming above. He picked up her coat and swung it around her shoulders, then went out into the bakery’s front and grabbed a chair. He returned and put it down in front of her, and caught her holding the gemstone he’d given her protectively as he sat down. Seeing her do that, a gesture she’d clearly made a hundred times before in his absence, gave him strength.
“Andi, I know you don’t want another destiny, but I’m sorry,” he began, and then realized he wasn’t. There were many things in his life to apologize for, but this was not one of them. “Actually, fuck it, no, I’m not. This is real to me. And I want it to be real to you.” He stared up at her, her ankles daintily crossed, the curves of her body barely hidden by the coat, his gemstone glinting at her neck. She stared down at him with eyes both curious and concerned, biting her lips.
“You’re my mate, Andi. Every time I ever said you were my one and only, I meant it. What we have is not just a relationship, and it’s not something we can opt out of or decide to put away for good. This thing between us is timeless and endless and it echoes. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to please you, and if it means you send me away again, I’ll do that, too, but please do not because life without you has been murderous for me.”
And for me as well, his dragon quietly added.
He swallowed, trying to read her face as he continued, sensing all of her body flush. He could only hope that that was a good thing. In fiction, in the Realms, announcing you were mates was always a happy occasion, met with a squeal of delight and affection instantly returned, but he was on Earth now, and Andi was so beautifully human. He took her hands in his, brushing a thumb over her wrist, feeling the beating of her pulse. “Every time I see you, princess, I feel something shift and break in me. I keep changing to be a better man for you, and hell, a better dragon. I am yours. I belong to you. Say you belong to me, too.”
“Damian,” she whispered.
“Annnnd it continues to be clear. I feel like a weatherman,” Jamison said inside Damian’s ear. “Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Damian fought down a growl and concentrated on Andi. “If you look inside yourself and know you feel that way about me too, princess…I need you to tell me.”
Andi sat on the countertop, hiding inside her coat, her hands in his, looking at Damian’s beautiful face. The scent of sex was heavy in the air, and he smelled lightly of sweat, like he’d been working out before he’d met her. In the half-light of the kitchen—it was dawn outside, leaking in around closed blinds—his golden eyes looked like tarnished coins. She felt all of his concentration upon her, waiting for her to say that she felt things too.
She did. She had. This whole time. She’d been feeling things ever since she’d met him, since he’d picked her up at that first bus stop, when she’d known he’d been trouble. It’d been so easy to read the signs, even if she never could’ve predicted this.
“How long have you known?” she asked him.
He sat up straighter, pulling slightly back. “When we were together in the car beneath the overpass. I was with you and…my dragon told me.” She could watch him structuring his breathing, holding onto each inhale half a second longer than was natural, trying to brace himself for a possible impact.
“He doesn’t lie, does he?”
Damian closed his eyes and snorted. “He is many things, but not a liar, no.”
She freed her hands from his, scooting closer to the counter’s edge to look down at him. “If you’ve known for so long, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“To tell you that night would’ve sounded insane.”
“And all the nights since then?”
“There was never a good time. Perhaps because of all the fighting or fucking, as you said, take your pick.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, arching his back against the chair. “And I know you’re human, Andi. I had to consider that you didn’t feel the way I do.” He rebounded to his former position, his gaze searching hers as he put a hand on either side of her hips on the counter. “But I can’t risk you not knowing anymore. If you’re going to choose a destiny, choose ours.”
Andi leaned forward to cup her hands beneath his strong jaw. “You impossibly hot draconic idiot. I’ve been trying to.” His eyes widened in surprise as she went on. “Do you think I’ve enjoyed this time alone? Swallowing down panic every night, waiting for just one word?”
“But you said you didn’t want to be in a relationship—”
“How am I supposed to make good decisions when I don’t have all the information?” She let go of his face to run her hands over her own. “What the fuck, Damian!”
“That’s not an answer,” he said, his voice low.
“I don’t know what mates is!” She shook her head, raising her gaze to the ceiling of the bakery before lowering it again to his, finding him still intent on her. “All I do know is that when I’m not with you, I want to die,” she whispered and swallowed. “And not in a casual, ‘oh, work sucks and I spilled coffee on my best scrubs’ way, but more in a visceral, ‘I wish I could stop breathing now because it would be easier than being away from him.’”
The intensity in his brow softened. “Don’t stop breathing. Ever.”
She hugged herself and looked down. “I had no idea how hard it was going to be to be without you until I was. I could’ve used a warning.”
He pushed the chair he’d sat in back and stood, wrapping his arms around her. “Would it have changed anything?” he asked, his question a soft rumble.
“I don’t know. Does it change anything? Does being mates make you invincible or keep you safe?” she murmured into his chest.
He took one of her hands, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “No, princess.”
Andi’s stomach sank. “Then we’ll have to stay apart.”
“Until this is through, most likely.” He tucked her head beneath his chin.
Her emotions raced in different directions, like unruly horses tearing apart a chariot. She was angry that there wasn’t an easy solution and that their time together still had a timer, afraid of how right everything he’d told her felt, and on fire with how badly she wanted him. Now that he was near her…now that she could hear his heart…now that she knew it beat only for her….
She flashed back to the prior night and the accident’s only survivor and looked up. “Will there be more helicopters?”
His golden eyes stared down at her and she felt herself drawn even closer to him. “Not right now,” he promised.
She leaned up, yearning, desperate for a kiss now that she knew they were all counted, and his mouth met hers, tasting her gently, kissing the edges of her lips before teasing her mouth with his tongue pressing in. She ran her hands up into his hair to hold his mouth to hers so she could drink him. Her coat fell off her shoulders as he ran his hands beneath it and she remembered their first kiss on his bed when she’d been wearing a fur, when it seemed incredibly crazy to want him. But this time, she knew exactly what she was getting into—and what she wanted. Him. Damian. Her dragon. She pulled her head back from his, and he pressed his forehead to hers, and they were both breathing hard. “Princess,” he whispered. “Never leave me again. Not like that.”
“I won’t,” she swore.
His hands ran up her sides and down her back and he bent over to kiss her neck. She ran her hands down his shoulders as he pulled her forward to the counter’s edge and she kicked her legs so that she was straddling him, her legs around his hips, asking him for more.
She knew he was hard; she could feel him grind against her, and her hands raced for the waistband of his jeans, undoing the buttons that he’d just redone to reach inside, hearing his sharp intake of breath at her touch on his hot, smooth, skin. “Help me?” she whispered, and he went for his jeans, shoving them down quickly, reaching between them to hold his heavy cock steady. He angled himself down and leaned forward as she arched her hips to let him in, her hand curling in the shorter hair at the nape of his neck as he started to push his way inside.
“Andi,” he groaned, grabbing her hips and holding her steady for a thrust.
“Go slow…it’s been so long,” she begged, and felt him shudder with restraint.
“I’ll take my time,” he said, kissing down her shoulder. “I’d take forever, if I could.”
She heard the sincerity in his voice, and for the first time in her life, Andi felt like forever could be an actual thing. Like there was someone on this planet who would always watch out for her, care for her, cherish her. And she enjoyed it for half a second before rocking back onto her elbows with a giggle. “Oh my God, Damian, I really am stuck with you.”
He flashed her a look, and then, he laughed, too. He stood and encircled both of her thighs with his strong hands, rocking himself deeper inside her with a satisfied grunt. “Is that what it’s like?”
“Kind of…right?”
“I guess,” he said, and laughed again. “I’ve never done this before either, princess.” He gave her the kind of look then that made her want to melt and hide, instead of being so ridiculously naked and exposed. She bit her lips and fought not to look away. He leaned over her, pushing himself deeper, as he placed a hand beside her head. “All I know is that we’re meant to be. I have faith in our fate, Andi. Every time I see you, I feel it. Don’t you?”
She knew what he wanted to hear: yes, of course!—but that’d have been a lie. “No.”
He froze, holding himself over her. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to believe in fate, Damian. I don’t want to trust that shit with you any more than I want to trust it with my brother. I want to be my own goddamned person, not a puppet.” She reached for his face again as she went on. “I know I love you and only you, and if you want to think that that makes us mates, then that’s fine, but the only thing I want to have faith in from here on out is you.” She was breathing roughly and he was still rock hard inside her and all she wanted was all of him. “Isn’t that enough?”
His thoughts flashed across his face, too quickly for her to read. “It is,” he agreed, kissing her, and thrust anew.
The first few strokes were slow just like she’d asked for, letting her feel all of him, both of them relishing the friction as he pulled out of her, the tension of her tight around his cock’s thick head, and then the sensation of him pushing into her again, stretching her wide as she sleeved him. His cock rubbed inside at her spot, as he reached around to play her clit with his thumb. Her breath hitched and she looked up at him. “You can go faster now.”
“Can I?” he teased. His hands found her waist, thudding into her once, hard, in demonstration. “Are you sure you can take it, princess?” Andi licked her lips and nodded, as he growled, “We’ll see.”
He lowered himself on top of her, crushing her just the right amount, making her feel pinned in place, trapped in a good way, filling her and taking her, again and again, and she realized everything she’d missed when she’d been alone. Feeling full, feeling whole, feeling wanted—feeling alive.
“Oh, fuck, princess,” Damian groaned into her neck, seating himself inside her. “I don’t know how I lived without this.”
“I don’t know how I did, either,” she said honestly.
He lifted up his head to loom over her, smoothing her hair back off her face. “You don’t have to. Not ever again,” he said.
He didn’t speed up all at once. He kept her on the edge of begging him, and she knew he was doing it on purpose, because surely he could feel her shifting beneath him, heels kicking helplessly, her fingers clawing against his back to urge him and then…and then…he started fucking her like he wanted his cock to move in, and it was all she could do to hold on.
“Damian,” she gasped, throwing her arms around his head and neck, her legs laced around his back, his hips stretching her thighs wide.
It was like he wanted to demolish anything that’d ever held them back, and she was all right with that, because after this, she didn’t even want to be the same person. She wanted him to fuck her until she became someone new—someone so undeniably his that there could never be any question.
“Goddamn, princess,” he breathed harshly in her ear as he kept mounting her. “This is where I belong. In you. You’re my everything.”
Andi moaned and writhed. “Damian…I,” she began, feeling all the orgasms she’d denied herself in his absence rushing up. “Damian…oh God, oh God, oh God,” she whined. Her hands ran over his shoulders, her short nails ripping at his back.
“Fucking come for me, princess,” he hissed, and she had to, it was his, just like she was.
She screamed, then realized how loud she was being, and bit his bicep hard to muffle herself, as the sensation ripped through her, head to toe, all of her clenching and opening, clenching and opening, trying to take him deeper and then hold him tight inside. When she was through, she fell back with a final shudder, exhausted.
“I’m yours, dragon,” she whispered, willing it to be so.
“Forever, princess,” he told her, holding himself up over her, breathing hard. “Always.”