The surge of liquid heat that rushed from her womb crashed over her in a storm of yearning so fierce, every part of her skin seemed to shiver with pain.
She arched her back off the bed, plunging her fingers into his hair.
"Please," she gasped. Another shudder of heat coursed through her. She felt her pulse in her throat. Every part of her ached.
He trailed his lips over her stomach and up the hollow valley between her breasts. Kissing the hollow at the base of her throat, he placed his elbows on either side of her body.
His biceps bulged with the weight of holding himself up.
The emptiness inside her churned, gathering into a storm that threatened to overcome.
She wanted to close her thighs, wanted him inside her, just wanted… "Aaron."
Her voice seemed to get through him.
Parting her thighs further, he plunged.
One moment she was empty. The next, he was there, filling her.
His hard length slid down the most erogenous part of her, igniting a fire that coursed through her veins to surge over her dragon. Her beast reveled in it. Her dragon only seemed to absorb the impact and grow impossibly bigger, pushing through her every cell.
The gold and green flames poured through her, and she let them take over.
Hope threw her head back and went up in flames.
53
Aaron
Aaron pulled back from her, almost all the way back so his hardness teased her sensitive entrance. The spicy taste of her in his mouth, his fingers clasped around flesh so creamy, so silky, he was in danger of never letting go.
The scent of her, that vanilla and hot spice was laced with wildfire. It warned him she was close to coming and drove him out of his head with wanting.
He wasn't even aware he was moving, not until he thrust into her to the hilt again, reaching out to her with all his senses.
She opened herself on the psychic plane. Her dragon vibrated and then poured itself down the psychic bond, into his mind, his body; and just like that, it felt like his skin was on fire.
He looked up to find flames enclosing their joined bodies. It was the most sensuous image he'd ever seen.
Hands clenching the sheets, her head was flung back. His mark was on her throat. Her nipples pebbled with desire as her waist arched off the bed before curving down to hips that flared in voluptuous contrast.
All around them, the flames burned gold and green, tinged with blue. A blue that was his mark on her.
"Open your eyes, baby. See what we are." Leaning in, still inside her, he braced his arms on either side of her head.
Her eyelids fluttered open, the gold flecks swirling in green pupils with vertical slits. She'd gone dragon on him.
"You are beautiful, Hope." His desire intensified, and then he was moving again.
Desire and love and tenderness burst out of him as Aaron fitted his lips to hers, absorbing the scream of her climax even as he felt himself shatter.
Epilogue
Hope flew over Bombay city, her wings bathing in the sunshine that beat down on her. The heat sank into her blood, zinging through her veins as she rode an air current that blew in from the Arabian sea.
Eve was no longer in a coma, but she was still not awake.
Hope knew that was just the way of dragon shifters. She'd awake when her body was healed. Her sister was out of danger, and Hope was content with that.
Below her, she could make out the broken bridge that stretched between two islands of the city.
Aaron had told her that before the tsunami of 2014, the seven islands that made up the city had been joined together.
The ruins of the bridge had been left to remind people that they didn't want the city to go back to the crowded, polluted metropolis it had once been. That the species of the city should find a way to live together, to preserve its status as the “Rising Hope of the East.”
Another gust of wind struck her, for the air currents here were choppier than Mauritania.
The skies weren't as blue either, and yet there was a wild beauty to these surroundings, the feel of urban landscape and nature clashing, each winning in parts. Much like the dragon and woman inside her.
Perhaps her adopted home suited her better than she realized, Hope thought as she came in to land on the beach.
The air shimmered green and gold around her.
Pain and fear, joy and ecstasy…the conflicting emotions bubbled through her.
She transformed back into the woman.
Threaded through it all was love and an instinct that pulled at her through the mating bond.
The wind tugged her hair, shivering over her skin.
She walked toward the man who waited for her on the beach.
Arms at his side, his chest was broad enough to stretch the cloth of the black T-shirt. He'd cut his hair.
Hope was still getting used to seeing Aaron's hair short enough to brush his shoulders.
It only enhanced those cheekbones and highlighted those cobalt-blue eyes that mirrored the rising tide.
She came to a halt in front of him.
"Storm's coming." She wound her arms around his shoulders and raised her lips.
Her Ascendant clasped her around her waist, raising her to the balls of her feet, before swooping down to brush his lips over hers.
The first drop of rain splashed on her nose.
Sliding his lips over her cheek, Aaron licked the drop of water.
A sizzle of heat vibrated straight to her core.
"Have you ever made love in the first rain of the monsoon?" He trailed kisses down her neck. "When the parched earth drinks in the water and the air is filled with the smell of—"
"Petrichor," Laughter bubbled up. Her chest felt light. She felt like she was still flying.
"The scent of mud after the first rain." Blue clashed with green and gold.
"Will we always be in sync like this, Aaron?"
"Always," he promised. "I'm never letting you go." Sliding his arm down her waist, Aaron swept her up in his arms.
She squealed as he ran with her toward the waves. The clouds opened, and the first rains poured over them.
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Zeus
“Boo!” I bare my teeth.
The soldier cringes, and sweat beads his forehead.
“Really, Z?” My second-in-command narrows his gaze.
I raise my shoulders then let them drop. “Okay, a bit over the top.” But, cut me some slack, okay? I like to play with my prey.
Besides, I have a flair for the dramatic, one of the few redeeming features I inherited from my bastard of a father. Except, oh, wait, I was the bastard in that relationship, given he’d never acknowledged me…not until I had my fingers around Golan’s neck and recognition had dawned in his eyes. Too late, Pater. Thirty years too late.