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  Timid Ella was thrust to the back behind the brazen one, the one who looked at Paxon Nightwing and knew who she was, knew what she wanted with all her being.

  I lifted my chin, met his gaze, as breathless as I’d ever been, and whispered a confident, “Yes.”

  In a blink, I was on my back, caged under the overwhelming power of Paxon. His wings opened, a canopy of darkness walling us in. His amber eyes glowed in the shadow, the pupils narrowing to slits. Glassy fire mesmerized me, bewitched me, made me want him more. I was indeed staring into the eyes of a dragon as I curled my fists into his sweater. What I saw there both thrilled and terrified me—a fierce passion that would certainly consume me if I wasn’t strong enough to take him on.

  “I want to see you,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck. “Let me see you, Ella.” His voice a rolling timbre, he shifted his weight to the right and lifted the edge of my buttoned-up cardigan, skating his fingers along the line of my jeans, tantalizing my bare skin.

  My abdomen caved inward with his intimate touch, my breaths coming shorter, faster.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No,” I answered with quick confidence.

  “Good.” His mouth tilted up in an agonizingly sexy smile. “Will you take off your sweater for me? So I can see more of you.”

  Still calm and composed, his chest rose and fell more quickly. That he asked rather than took what he wanted, as many men had tried before, surprised me. I was used to Clayton and the few guys I’d dated groping and fondling till I put a stop to their manic lust that had always turned my stomach. This was different. This man was different. The heated desire flaring between us lured me to do whatever he asked, with pleasure. But he didn’t intend to take… He had asked me to give instead.

  Wrangling my wits before they splintered into a thousand pieces, I finally nodded with a definitive, “Yes.”

  With a swift, fluid movement, he shifted off me a few feet away. Not what I was expecting. Still sprawled across the floor, he leaned on one elbow with casual grace. Waiting. Watching. His dragon eyes glowing by firelight.

  I wanted to let him see me, all of me, not just my body. Yet, I still hesitated, my fingers trembling on the bottom button. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just waited with undying patience as an electric charge filled the room.

  Unsure I had the nerve to do this, I forced my fingers to move and unfastened the first button. His gaze dropped, following my slow progress as I unclasped the second, the third, all the way down to the last. I stopped, unsure what to do next. I knew what he wanted and still, I needed to hear him say the words.

  “Take it off. Let me see you.”

  For him. Yes. In that moment, I knew I’d do anything he asked, and the thought frightened me. I’d been taught all my life that this was all men truly wanted. My mother’s words echoed. They will use your body and ruin your soul, dear Ella. Words created in fear. But I wasn’t afraid of Paxon. I was afraid of myself. Of not grabbing hold of life before it slipped away. I wanted to do this for him. I wanted to give him something I’d given no one else.

  Holding his gaze, breathless, I opened my sweater and let it slip from my shoulders. Being small-breasted, I didn’t always wear a bra. Like tonight. Instead, I wore a snug, lavender-laced camisole under my sweater. Gooseflesh rose on my pale skin and my nipples tightened, pressing against the sheer fabric, responding to the kiss of open air, to his desire, and to mine.

  “I want to touch you,” he said, still not moving. “Do you want me to?”

  I could only nod.

  “Say you want me to.”

  “Yes,” I said, licking my dry lips again. “I want you to.”

  He slowly pushed onto all fours, shoulders flexing, wings flaring wide. “Close your eyes, angel.” A deep, guttural command.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Sensing his body heat enveloping my space, I sucked in a breath, anticipating his touch.

  “So beautiful.” He swept a kiss on my bare shoulder, then grazed his lips up the slope of my neck. A large hand cupped my nape as he eased me down onto my back. “So sweet.” His mouth found mine, brushing with infinite tenderness. Too soft, too gentle. I arched upward, pressing my mouth firmer against his. He inched away.

  “Paxon.” I didn’t even recognize my voice, so desperate and needy, even angry. Opening my eyes, I found the site of him hovering over me more intoxicating than anything I’d ever drunk or tasted. “I want, I want—” For the first time in my life, the driving need of my body took hold. I slid my hands under his thin sweater over his hard chest. I slipped one hand into the silkiness of his hair, the other at his nape and pulled him closer.

  He grinned as he lowered his mouth to mine. I whimpered as he finally gave me what I longed for. Sliding my lips apart with his firm ones, he growled as I slipped my tongue inside his mouth first, tasting what I wanted without shame or regret. I couldn’t imagine what soulfire must feel like. I couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

  The fine fabric of his sweater rubbed against the sheer lace covering my breasts. I moaned, kissing him deeper. I hardly recognized this brazen, passionate woman.

  His lips left mine, skating down the sensitive column of my throat, sucking at the hollow between my collarbones before sliding lower. His hot mouth closed over the peak of my breast, his tongue flicking against my nub restrained by tight lace. I gripped his shoulder hard, my nails digging in. Crooking my knees, I welcomed his weight between my legs as he laved and nipped through the lace. His mouth moved to the one he’d neglected, circling and flicking his tongue till I thought I would faint from sensation. Rocking my hips up, I moaned when his hard body pressed me harder to the floor.

  I slid one hand inside the back of his sweater, skating my fingernails up his spine.

  “God, Ella…no,” he growled. Taking hold of my wrists, he pinned them above my head with one hand. The dragon still peered down, more fiery than ever before. “You’re not ready for this.”

  Panting and filled with more desire than I’d ever felt, I said, “Yes. I am.” Though in the back of my mind, there was still a question if this was right, if he was the one.

  Tracing the line of my jaw with his index finger and hovering close, he said, “I’m not the kind to take you once and leave you alone. I want it all. I want all of you.”

  “But…” I squirmed, my body needing friction, needing him. I couldn’t tell him that I’d never felt desire like this, not with any man…ever.

  “Hush, angel. I won’t leave you so unsatisfied, but I also won’t take what isn’t mine. Yet.” He nodded at my wrists still pinned above my head. “I must keep them bound. If you don’t touch me, I can keep him under control.”

  No need to ask who him was. Before I could process that thought, my pants and panties were off my body. There I lay, stretched out before him in nothing but a sheer, lace camisole. Paxon lay beside me and drank me in for an agonizing, long moment. Ordinarily, I would be mortified to lay myself bare for another man’s eyes, but somehow it only heightened my sensual longing. When I thought I could stand it no longer, he lowered himself to me, but didn’t kiss me. He brushed his parted lips over mine. His free hand cupped my breast, pinching the peak softly.

  “Paxon,” I whispered on a moan, our breaths mingling.

  He skimmed his free hand down over my ribs, my abdomen, sliding along my right thigh where he rested, his fingers lightly curling in.

  “Open for me, Ella,” he whispered against my lips. “Show me what you want.”

  Rather than feel scandalized, I was empowered by his erotic request. I complied and bent my knees, opening my thighs for him.

  When his finger rubbed along the slick line of my cleft, I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned. “Yes, Paxon.” He liked to hear me tell him what I wanted, that was certain. So I let him hear me. Between soft sounds of pleasure, I’d encourage him. “More…yes.”

  A genuine beast’s growl reverberated from the man pleasuring m
e. His mouth firmed hard over mine and his tongue thrust inside as his fingers did unspeakable, wonderful things down below. I clenched my fists, my wrists still tight in his grasp. He licked in with the intensity of a man who’d waited too long. I rocked my hips upward. One finger slid inside me, but not too deep. I opened my legs wider and slid my tongue along his with the same fevered need. He pushed two fingers just inside me. The slight resistance brought only more pleasure.

  Something within me awakened, bloomed, opened for the first time and only for him. A longing, a need, a soul-deep ache reached out, knowing the one who could fill the chasm had finally come. The depth of that emotion, that knowledge, gripped me, tightening my chest as Paxon’s attentions made the rest of my body soar.

  When he slid his fingers out along my cleft and back in, I cried out with my sudden climax, a shudder pulsing through my entire body. He finally released my wrists, but I couldn’t move, leaving my arms crossed above my head.

  He kissed me down with softer nips of my swollen lips. I relaxed beneath him as his fingers slid away. He gripped one thigh and closed my legs together, my knees falling listless against his hips.

  “Ella?” He kissed one closed eyelid. “Are you okay?”

  Breathing hard and fast, I hadn’t realized tears had slipped down my cheeks into my hair. I opened my eyes to find his—faded gold to brown—watching me with concern. He kissed one cheek on the trail of tears.

  “Yes. I’m…more than okay.”

  How do you tell a man that you just realized, during a sensual act you never thought you’d ever desire, that he was the one you wanted? Like the only one. Forever. He said he wanted all of me, but that might just mean sex. Men were different.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” His voice brought me back to my senses, and the look of confusion on his face made me laugh. A little.

  “I just feel emotions very deeply. Trust me, you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you did everything right.”

  “Then why are you frowning?”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.” His grave expression deepened.

  “I…I just…” I pulled my arms down and crossed them over my waist with a shrug.

  “No. That won’t do it for me.”

  I sat up, curling my knees to my chest. He rose with me, his wings folded tightly against his back. “Speak to me, Ella.”

  I couldn’t look at him. “I just don’t know what this means.”

  “How so?”

  With another shrug and refusing to make eye contact, I spoke my mind freely. “I know men want sex, expect sex in a relationship. Both humans and Morgons for that matter. But I don’t know if it means anything to them, beyond the physical I mean. My mother said that men only use women for their bodies. I don’t really believe that but…” I shrugged for the third time and chanced a glance at him.

  I wasn’t expecting the mixed expression of anger and pain fixed on Paxon’s beautiful face. I sucked in a breath as he leaned on both arms, fixing his face close to mine.

  “You listen to me and listen well. First of all, we didn’t have sex. If that’s all I’d wanted from you, I would’ve taken it, for you were quite ripe and ready for the giving.”

  My cheeks lanced hot with that remark because it was true. I’d wanted to go all the way, but he hadn’t taken my virginity as many men would have. Gladly.

  “And second, what I feel for you already goes so far beyond the physical, I can’t even put it into words.” He scoffed with a derisive laugh. “If you only knew how badly I wanted to drive into you and feel you come beneath me. How badly I still want to. Physical pleasure is only part of what I want from you, to give to you. When I asked you to open for me, I didn’t mean just your legs.”

  I flinched, the remark stinging. Before my anger could take hold, I realized two things. One, he’d given me pleasure only after I’d asked him to. Two, I’d basically told him I believed all men were animals, only wanting to pleasure themselves and never feeling any true emotion from sex. I’d reduced him to…a beast. The same way many humans in our society did to Morgons all the time. Shame flamed my cheeks hotter.

  With less fire in his voice, he whispered, “Do I want your body? Yes. More than you could possibly imagine. But I also want your mind, your heart, and yes, I want your soul.” His unfaltering gaze could not be mistaken for anything else. He spoke of soulfire. “Please don’t say anything now. I hadn’t planned on spilling my feelings on our first date.” He hung his head, shaking it as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

  There I was, still half naked and fully ashamed of what I’d said. “Paxon, I’m sorry I—”

  He cut me off. “Please don’t say anything.”

  I realized he thought I might have been about to reject him when really I wanted to apologize for my bad behavior.

  “Just promise me you’ll consider the possible future we could have together.”

  The future. Never in my life was I looking forward to it with this much hope smiling on my heart.

  “Yes,” I said, cupping his jaw.

  His eyes slipped closed under my gentle touch.

  “I promise.”

  Chapter 9

  Heated breath on my skin

  Haunted by my thoughts within . . .

  His mouth, hands, lips

  On my neck, breasts, hips

  I want

  I need

  I ache

  He breathes my soul awake

  My body sings a lullaby

  Humming with each whimpered cry

  Longing for this man to be

  My one and only melody

  I doodled hearts and dragons around the poem I’d written this morning when Elsibeta left me in charge of the gallery. I smiled to myself, remembering how Paxon had helped me redress in silence, buttoning my coat up tight and tying a black, cashmere scarf around my neck before flying me home. I wore the scarf now, smoothing it against my face and lips, smelling the woodsy, masculine scent of the man who made my stomach flutter.

  I recalled the things he did to send my heart racing. He had only pleasured me, never asking me to do anything to relieve him as Clayton had so many times. I would’ve gladly touched Paxon, but he’d refused to let me. And still, I knew he had been turned on. His desire had been evident in the hard ridge of his arousal against my thigh when he lay on top of me. I closed my eyes and pressed the downy fabric of the scarf to my nose again, taking a deep whiff.

  Completely engrossed in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear him enter, jumping out of my skin when he stood in front of the counter.

  “I’d love to know what you’re thinking right now.”

  “Holy crap, Paxon! You scared me.”

  I slapped my journal shut and shoved it aside, hiding my doodling from his wayward eyes. I wondered what he’d think of my newest poem for my next piece of artwork.

  “Someone was in deep thought.” Hands splayed on the counter, tapping one long finger. Those fingers. Heat flushed up my neck.

  “I was, yeah. I just didn’t hear you.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to take my girl to lunch.”

  His girl. My heart melted into a puddle.

  “Oh.” I smiled, biting my lip. “We’ll have to wait for Elsibeta. She’s still at her meeting.”

  “No, we don’t. Come on.” He gestured me around the counter. I joined him. He plucked my coat from the rack and helped me into it.

  I buttoned up, adjusting my borrowed scarf. “You’re just going to close down the gallery? I thought we never closed the gallery during daylight hours.”

  His hand engulfed mine, warm and steady. Like him.

  “What the hell point is it in owning the place if I can’t shut it down whenever I want?”

  “Right. Well, I daresay I won’t get in trouble with the boss. I think he likes me.”

  That won me a smoldering smile. “I belie
ve he’s more than smitten with you. As a matter of fact, if you don’t misbehave, he might take you back to the art cellar for a more exploratory tour.”

  I shivered. Not from the cold. “You’re bad.”

  “No. I’m very good, actually.”

  I laughed as he tugged me toward the door. “Oh, wait.” I picked up my journal and stuffed it in my pocket.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pulling me closer on the street as we strolled arm in arm. “Secrets you’re keeping from me already.”

  Soft snowflakes whirled around our heads.

  “Not secrets. It’s part of my artwork. If you don’t misbehave, I might share some of it with you.”

  “Well then, I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ve always been known to be the utmost gentleman.” He arched a brow with his most dangerous smile.

  “I’ll bet you have,” I said with a laugh.

  We shuffled into the warm bistro and found a corner table. Over sandwiches and fries, we fell into natural conversation, as if we’d known each other all our lives. He must’ve noticed my pensive thoughts.

  “What’s got that expression on your face?”

  I crumpled my napkin on my plate. “It just feels strange. It’s like I’ve known you forever or something, and I don’t know why. I mean, yeah, I met you months ago through Jessen. But we haven’t really known-known each other for very long.”

  “Define known-known.”

  I cocked my head. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Yes. But I’d still love to know the definition.”

  “You know what I mean. This”—I gestured my hand back and forth between us—“connection we have. I mean, don’t you know what I mean?”

  My heart skittered faster, thinking I’d stumbled and let my mouth just run away from me again. I always seemed to bumble things.

  Paxon leaned forward, taking my hand across the table, rubbing his thumb along the fleshy part between my thumb and index finger.

  “Yes. I know what you mean. The connection is real, more real than I think you understand.”