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hanging low on his hips. God but the man was a walking billboard for men’s nightwear. His steps were hushed on the granite tiles.
    Kirill shook his head. “There might be some human in you but I believe you are so much more than that. Try again.”
    She put the furniture between them. “I think you got me confused with someone else. Perhaps you should go back to the parking lot and look again.”
    “You know too much about my kind and probably about other paranormal beings. Someone has taken the time to educate you.”
    Synda sighed. “You aren’t going to let me go are you?”
    “You see this.” He pointed to the markings on his side. They traveled up from his elbow to his shoulder, and down his side to his hip.
    “Yeah, that is some sweet ink. I have a few but I thought dragons couldn’t get tatted. The ink can’t penetrate your scales.” She studied the design. It was eerily similar to the markings her father had on his biceps. But his tattoo was nowhere as large or intricate.
    “It’s a mark of a different nature. It’s a mate’s mark and only my mahtyeh , you , can make the ache of it etching my skin stop.”
    “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”
    “We bond. Body, heart and soul.” He stopped on the other side of the furniture grouping. “If we start now, things would go so much easier.”
    “For who? Bite me.”
    “I plan to, and so much more. When I’m done you’ll whimper for more.”
    Cream flowed over the folds of her pussy at the image his words created. She could not give in. Once she mated, she’d be lost to her father and Manx’s words rung in her head. Never let a dragon take you . She stared at the stranger, Kirill, who acted more like a gentle man than a captor. Her heartbeat sped up in her chest and she let the sheet drop to pool around her feet. Since she’d have to fight, she couldn’t afford to get tangled in the fabric. Briefly, his eyes dropped to her breasts before rising to meet her gaze again.
    “You want me dragon? Take me if you can.”
    * * * *
    Kirill pushed off the heavy wooden chair he’d been leaning on and sent it toppling over as he reached for her. She evaded his hands, grabbed his wrists and walked up his body using his chest as her rebound board. Releasing his arms, she flipped backward. Synda landed on the coffee table, dove off the other end and rolled when she hit the floor. He watched, astounded, sure his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He’d only seen such agility from she-dragons in the sky and still it had been a while since he’d witnessed such acrobatics. The sound of Synda’s feet slapping on the floor echoed through the room as she ran for the door. Jumping off from where he stood, he unfurled his wings. He glided through the air and landed before the bedroom door. She slammed into his body and he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet.
    “Whoever taught you our ways should be commended.” His accent was thickening with every word.
    “I’ll let him know you approve of my education.” She huffed. “But you ain’t seen nothing yet.” She reared her head back and thrust it forward to slam her forehead into the bridge of his nose.
    Pain exploded between his eyes and his vision doubled. They both went down as she struggled to get free of his loosened grip. She kicked at his hands and crab-walked back. Kirill dropped to his knees and grabbed his head. He blinked several times to stop her image from swimming. The screech of hinges told him she’d been able to get the door open. A cool draft curled around his ankles. He staggered toward the opening, his hand pressed against his temple, and waited for the pounding in his head to become a dull throb.
    He grabbed the doorjamb. The scent of jasmine wafted back to him and he licked his lips. The flavor of her essence burst on his tongue. The hunt was on. Slowly he made his way down the hall. She might have slipped into one of the bedrooms, but he’d check the foyer