major egos. They’d expect the kind of attention Deana had obviously been giving him. Kirill, on the other hand…
Her good intentions not to laugh almost disappeared as the image of Deana tangled and tied in her robe resurfaced. Jazzlyn bit her bottom lip, remembering his heightened color and panicked expression. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was gay.
But you don’t know better—yet , a mischievous internal voice that sounded a lot like Alex’s prompted, making her heart trip into a stuttered beat. Maybe you should do a quick check. Give him a kiss in appreciation of his efforts on your behalf. Without him, you wouldn’t have the music box.
Lust burned her belly and flared outward. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Did she dare?
She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never taken on a man like Kirill. The two guys she’d dated to the point of actual intercourse had been gentle and considerate and…when it was done she’d felt unsatisfied and wondered if they felt the same.
It hadn’t exactly been a boost to her self-confidence.
But this is different. He’s different.
Indecision kept her driving a few moments longer, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
His scent filled her car. His nearness was distracting enough to cause a wreck.
She pulled to the curb and put the car in park before turning to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, dark and hungry, eradicating any possible doubt about her desirability.
“Thanks for helping me,” she said, leaning forward, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
Fire scorched through her the instant their lips touched. It roared through her system, branding every inch of her as his.
She moaned. Or he did.
It was impossible to tell. Just as it was impossible to know whether he pulled her onto his lap or she climbed there.
She wanted him. She found him fascinating, like a gem with hidden facets, one needing the right person and setting to really see it in all its glory. He was endearing, strangely vulnerable, like a man out of his element, and totally adorable because of it, though she doubted he would appreciate the label, not when he bristled with masculine pride and projected the promise of dominance.
Her clit throbbed where it pressed against her panties. Her cunt lips were swollen, full. She ached with a desperation that made her want to guide his hand to her mound.
“We can’t,” she said, more for herself than for him.
“We can. We will,” Kirill said.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, did she have any idea what she was putting him through ? he wondered, intensely aware of Jazzlyn’s breasts pressed to his chest and the proximity of her cunt to his cock.
Having her in his arms was torment and ecstasy, a battering of his senses. A reality beyond any he’d ever known.
His tongue delved into her mouth, explored, conquered. Centuries of need crested and he poured it into her along with his fire.
Mine! It echoed through him with every beat of his heart. She was his and he would never let her escape.
His hands roamed possessively over her back, aggressively tugging her blouse upward so he could caress her naked flesh. He shuddered at the smooth feel of her skin and the way she responded to him, clung to him, her scent revealing her readiness to accept him as a mate.
He fought the urge to let the hollow spurs at his wrists descend and fill with serum. A moan escaped as he imagined raking them across her back.
They were an ancient adaptation leaving human females unconscious—a necessity in the days when dragons lived in rocky lairs accessible only by flying. But more importantly, the serum would alter her body, change her chemistry so she could conceive a dragon’s young.
His cock spasmed, the tip becoming wet, lubricated in preparation for working its way into her tight sheath. He’d heard it said that great care had to be taken even in
Her good intentions not to laugh almost disappeared as the image of Deana tangled and tied in her robe resurfaced. Jazzlyn bit her bottom lip, remembering his heightened color and panicked expression. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was gay.
But you don’t know better—yet , a mischievous internal voice that sounded a lot like Alex’s prompted, making her heart trip into a stuttered beat. Maybe you should do a quick check. Give him a kiss in appreciation of his efforts on your behalf. Without him, you wouldn’t have the music box.
Lust burned her belly and flared outward. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Did she dare?
She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never taken on a man like Kirill. The two guys she’d dated to the point of actual intercourse had been gentle and considerate and…when it was done she’d felt unsatisfied and wondered if they felt the same.
It hadn’t exactly been a boost to her self-confidence.
But this is different. He’s different.
Indecision kept her driving a few moments longer, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
His scent filled her car. His nearness was distracting enough to cause a wreck.
She pulled to the curb and put the car in park before turning to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, dark and hungry, eradicating any possible doubt about her desirability.
“Thanks for helping me,” she said, leaning forward, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
Fire scorched through her the instant their lips touched. It roared through her system, branding every inch of her as his.
She moaned. Or he did.
It was impossible to tell. Just as it was impossible to know whether he pulled her onto his lap or she climbed there.
She wanted him. She found him fascinating, like a gem with hidden facets, one needing the right person and setting to really see it in all its glory. He was endearing, strangely vulnerable, like a man out of his element, and totally adorable because of it, though she doubted he would appreciate the label, not when he bristled with masculine pride and projected the promise of dominance.
Her clit throbbed where it pressed against her panties. Her cunt lips were swollen, full. She ached with a desperation that made her want to guide his hand to her mound.
“We can’t,” she said, more for herself than for him.
“We can. We will,” Kirill said.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, did she have any idea what she was putting him through ? he wondered, intensely aware of Jazzlyn’s breasts pressed to his chest and the proximity of her cunt to his cock.
Having her in his arms was torment and ecstasy, a battering of his senses. A reality beyond any he’d ever known.
His tongue delved into her mouth, explored, conquered. Centuries of need crested and he poured it into her along with his fire.
Mine! It echoed through him with every beat of his heart. She was his and he would never let her escape.
His hands roamed possessively over her back, aggressively tugging her blouse upward so he could caress her naked flesh. He shuddered at the smooth feel of her skin and the way she responded to him, clung to him, her scent revealing her readiness to accept him as a mate.
He fought the urge to let the hollow spurs at his wrists descend and fill with serum. A moan escaped as he imagined raking them across her back.
They were an ancient adaptation leaving human females unconscious—a necessity in the days when dragons lived in rocky lairs accessible only by flying. But more importantly, the serum would alter her body, change her chemistry so she could conceive a dragon’s young.
His cock spasmed, the tip becoming wet, lubricated in preparation for working its way into her tight sheath. He’d heard it said that great care had to be taken even in
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