A coping mechanism. One designed and built by self-protection. A mechanism Kruger had deconstructed with a deliberateness that shocked her.
He was determined, and she was being cracked open, in free fall with no fear of hitting the ground. He would catch her, keep her safe, become her shield anytime she asked him to—anytime he felt it necessary.
He didn’t voice the intention. Didn’t need to, either. She felt it emanating from him, read the resolve, his possessiveness, in the way he touched her, talked to her, in the beat of the connection growing between them. Something supernatural. Something beautiful. Something so intense, it filled her, guiding her out of uncertainty into the fullness of acceptance.
A revelation. One of many since meeting him.
He was so different from what she knew. Completely outside her circle of experience. To be expected in many ways—he was a dragon warrior, a man who didn’t care about human convention or propriety. Kruger didn’t play by the rules. He took what he wanted without apology. Just like he was taking her now, driving her hard, refusing to let her come, determined to make her believe.
Believe she was good enough.
Believe her family was, and had always been, wrong.
Believe he was right, and she was where she’d always belonged.
With word and deed, Kruger pressed the point, obliterating the way she viewed herself, replacing it with the way he saw her. Calling her precious, showing her how much he wanted her, how much he enjoyed looking at her. Telling her she was worthy of his time and attention—that he would never get enough of her. All she needed to do was trust. Trust his intentions. Trust the stark need in his eyes. Trust that he wouldn’t betray her the way other men had.
Another brutal thrust. She clenched hard, rippling around him, on the verge, needing to go over. Desperate for him to send her tumbling.
“Again, lass. What are tae me?”
“Precious.”
“Aye, you are,” he said, firm conviction in his tone. “Now…up.”
An incoherent sound left her throat.
He buried himself to the hilt and stayed deep, hips snug against her ass, the insides of his thighs pressed to the outside of hers, holding her still. She was surrounded by him, each movement controlled by him. Rolling his thumb and finger, he tugged on her nipples. The pressure built, drawing her so tight Ferguson knew she was coming apart at the seams.
Ribbons of tension unfurled in her belly. “Oh, God.”
“Up on your knees, Ferguson.”
His voice curled around her, resonant, deep, gliding over her skin, causing a full-body shiver. Ferguson tried to move. She needed to move, take over, get what she needed before he drove her insane.
He stilled her attempt.
A whine escaped her. “Kruger.”
His hands separated. One went up to cup her throat, the other slid down, over her the curls between her legs and in, hitting her sweet spot. She bucked in his arms. He smiled against her ear and straightened, drawing her up, putting her where he wanted her. Her back settled against his front. His middle finger circled her clit, so gently, teasing her, denying her the firm pressure she needed.
Raising her arms, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tipped her chin up, and turned her head. He rewarded her with the wet glide of his tongue over her bottom lip. She pressed her hips into his, begging without words. He kissed her in answer, taking her mouth the way he was loving her—slow and sweet, with brutal intensity.
“What do you say?” Dark eyes glinting in the moonlight streaming through her bedroom windows, he bared his teeth. A sharp nip scored across her bottom lip. “Tell me, lass. What do you say?”
A fast learner, she gave it up without hesitation. “Please.”
“There’s my good girl. So fucking sweet,” he muttered, the rumble coming from deep in his chest as he withdrew, leaving her empty.
“Oh, no. Don’t.”
“Hold on, baby.” Strong hands on her hips, a flex of muscle as he lifted off her knees and turned her. “Want your eyes. Need the green, tae see yer face when you come.”
“Effing hell,” she rasped.
He laughed. “Wrap me up, Fergie.”
She didn’t hesitate, wrapping him with her limbs, arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist. Cupping her ass in both hands, he kissed her deep and inched forward on his knees. Her back came up against the headboard. He thrust back inside her, powering up, retreating, coming back, battering her with bliss. She lost his kiss as her spine arched. Long hair flying all over the place, she held on, rolling into each thrust as he began loving her.
Delight sparked down her spine. Tingles took over. She clenched hard, rippling around him, about to go over.
His hand fisted in her hair. “Eyes tae me.”
Lips parted on a silent moan, she righted her head. Her gaze collided with his.
“Aye, beauty,” he growled, watching pleasure overtake her. “My beauty.”
She mewed his name.
“Go, baby. Let me feel you.”
Relishing the rough ride, obeying his harsh command, she tumbled off the edge. Ecstasy picked her up, ripped her apart, then put her back together. She heard Kruger’s deep rumble as a sharp cry echoed inside the room. His teeth touched her again, drifting over her throat. She bucked. He rode her harder, intensifying the pleasure, giving her more, fingers clenched in her hair, gaze riveted to her face.
She whimpered.
He snarled, driving her down hard before dragging her back up. Once. Twice. A third time before planting himself deep. Dark eyes shimmering, mouth brushing hers, deep voice hitching on her name. Everything about him fit her. Even the roughness of his hands as she gripped his hair, rolled her hips, prolonging his pleasure, hearing him groan, feeling the vibration travel from breast to belly.
“Beauty.” Planted deep, muscles twitching, Kruger tucked his face into her throat. A hoarse sound left him. “Beauty. Pure fucking beauty.”
“It’s you who’s beautiful.”
His arms tightened around her.
Releasing fistfuls of his hair, she smoothed the thick strands, played a moment, then slid her hands over the tops of his shoulders. Cupping his nape, she hugged him, cradling him as he held her. His mouth moved against her throat. Soft caresses. Profound intimacy. More of Kruger’s message conveyed without him saying a word.
Precious.
He found her precious.
Okay. All right.
God, unbelievable. Emotion swelled, tightening her chest. Tears welled as she closed her eyes and touched her lips to his temple. A song stopped playing; another one started. The quiet sound of guitar strings as a woman sang, thanking God for her lover.
Gratitude swelled as she listened to the words. Every bit of the song was true when it came to Kruger. Drawing a shaky breath, Ferguson shivered as he pressed a soft kiss to her pulse point. He flicked her with his tongue, then moved, sitting back on his heels. Arms locked around her, he held her close and rolled. Her back landed on the tangled sheets. He settled on top of her, cupping her ass, his hips between her thighs, still planted deep inside her.
She sucked in a quick breath.
“Sensitive?” he asked, raising his head to look at her.
“Yeah.”
“I rode you hard.”
“Thank God,” she said, echoing the song’s sentiment.
“I came three times.” Forearm pressed to the bed, he took some of his weight off her and cupped her face. He hummed in contentment, his intense vibe banked but still burning. “Built seven orgasms in you.”