She moaned.
He yanked the cups of her bra down. Nipples the same color as her underwear. Gorgeous buds, begging for his attention. Accepting the invitation, he planted one hand on the counter and, leaning in, scraped his cheek along her skin. Day-old stubble grazed her. She gasped. He turned his head and sucked a bud into his mouth. Her head tipped back. Needing more of her, he lashed her with his tongue, then sucked hard.
“Love that, babe.”
“More?”
“Yes.”
“What do you say?”
“Now. More. Right now, Ran.”
Holding her between his teeth, he nipped her gently. “Try again, lass.”
“God.”
“Not quite,” he murmured. “Surrender, Cate. Beg me for the pleasure.”
She quivered underneath him.
Pushing the pace, he slid his hand back into her panties. The pad of his fingertip slid over her. He pressed and circled, then stilled. Firm pressure. Zero movement. Her hips rose. Teasing her to get what he wanted, he backed off, leaving her wanting.
She cursed under her breath.
He growled against her breast. “Give me what I want.”
“Freaking hell.”
“Bellmia—”
“Please… please, Ran.”
“Need me?”
“Please!”
“Beautiful, Cate. Fucking gorgeous.”
Giving one last hard suck, Rannock straightened and yanked his button fly open. “I’ll taste you properly later,” he growled, craving the taste of her core on his tongue but, in the moment, needing to be inside her more. Hooking the silky sides, he dragged the scrap of lace down her legs. “Raise your knees. Spread for me, lass.”
Cate obeyed, opening wide, welcoming his possession.
One hand palming her arse, the other curved over the top of her thigh, he positioned and thrust deep. She arched on the marble slab, keening as he took her with one powerful stroke. Buried to the root with her sleek heat gripping him, Rannock closed his eyes. Bloody hell. She was more than glorious. His mate was perfect. So hot and tight she tested his control.
She wrapped her legs around him.
With a growl, Rannock opened his eyes and, taking her in, started to move. Firm strokes. Fast pace. Unfathomable delight. She took him like she’d been born to hold him, lifting her hips, rolling into each thrust, driving him higher as he drove into her. Feeling the clutch of her sex, seeing her breasts sway and her blue eyes fill with pleasure, he rode her hard, sinking deep, sliding out, demanding a response.
Cate didn’t disappoint. Enjoying the ride, she begged for the pleasure.
Needing to see her come, Rannock slid his thumb to the top of her sex. Gaze riveted to her face, he caressed her clit, drawing soft circles around her.
She shook her head. “Too much.”
“Not nearly enough,” he said, stroking her over and over until each of her breaths became moans. “Let go, Cate. I want tae see and feel it.”
“Shit,” she rasped.
“Go, baby.”
Her spine arched.
Mouth open on a silent scream, she throbbed around him.
Baring his teeth, Rannock rode her through her orgasm. Lifting her into each stroke. Watching the pleasure on her face as she gave him his due.
Another flick over her sex.
Cate came again.
Pleasure blasted through him. His balls drew up tight. Rannock snarled as she dragged him toward the edge. Unable to hold on, he let go, coming deep inside her, flooding her with his seed, marking her with his scent, drowning in bliss as he folded forward. Heart hammering, he buried his face in his female’s throat, luxuriating in the feel of her as she wrapped him up, enclosing him a warm embrace, making a dream he hadn’t believed possible come true.
12
Drowsy with pleasure, Cate came back to herself a little at a time. Quiet drifted. Time stretched. Her synapses fired, falling into each other like playing cards. The mental shuffle ruffled through her.
She cracked her eyes open.
Blurry surroundings came into clearer focus. Mind still drifting, body at attention, she catalogued the physical details. Vintage gold, black, and silver wallpaper. A gilded mirror to her left. Wide crown moldings above her head, under-mount sink and warm marble at her back. Hard body pressed against hers. Strong arms wrapped around her. Muscled hips nestled between her thighs. Warm breath drifting against the side of her throat.
Her mouth curved as delight curled through her.
She sighed.
Rannock in all his glory.
Hands flat against his back, Cate turned her face into his hair and breathed him in. Spicy scent full of musk and man. She closed her eyes. God, he was beautiful, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Rough exterior, but gentle with her. A skilled lover. Bossy in bed. Generous when doling out orgasms. Perfect for her. She may not have known she liked a dominant guy between the sheets (or on a countertop), but Rannock’s insistence she surrender upped the stakes, heightening her pleasure, making her come harder than she ever had before.
A touch curious. More than a little alarming.
Cate knew herself well. She was a strong woman with modern sensibilities. Confident in her abilities. Determined to succeed on her own. Nowhere near submissive, in or out of bed.
But with Rannock? Biting the inside of her cheek, she replayed the way he made love to her. Assertive. Assured. One-hundred percent in charge and…
She’d liked it.
A lot.
So…
All bets were off. Normal was no longer normal. The status quo simply wouldn’t do. Not anymore. Not with the dragon she held in her arms.
Dipping her chin, Cate kissed the top of his shoulder. She’d suspected weeks ago she was lucky to have him. Now she knew the truth. Everything about Rannock felt right. Like destiny set on a strong foundation. Like true love bundled up tight in the one. Her sister always laughed when she said things like that, but Cate believed in love at first sight. She had her whole life.
Nicole was the skeptic. Cate was the believer. Separate approaches born out of the chaos their father left in his wake.
One daughter questioned everything and trusted few. The other buried her head in the sand, dreamed big dreams, and chose to believe in fairytales. Night and day. Opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. Two different reactions to the same trauma. Both warranted. Both necessary. Both adopted in order to survive an irresponsible father who loved, but had no idea how to raise two little girls.
As thoughts of her dad invaded, the peace of glorious aftermath began to fade. Her muscles twitched. Her mind sharpened, inviting worry back into her mental sphere.
Cate clenched her teeth.
Her freaking father. Good. Bad. One way or another, he always managed to crash the party.
The second she thought it, Cate wanted to take it back. Her dad was missing, and had been for weeks. He could be in hiding, sure, but…
He also might be dead.
And what was she doing? Berating him for ruining her moment with Rannock. And yet, despite the guilt, she clung to the feel-good glow, snuggling into her dragon, holding on tighter, burrowing in deeper, seeking solace in his arms.
Drawing a breath, she reveled in the size and strength of him, along with the comfort he brought her. Another round of thankfulness rushed through her. Overwhelmed, Cate murmured a string of incoherent words. Little nothings. Important somethings, telling him how happy she was he’d found her, how good he felt against her, how much she liked the way he made her feel.