Dragon Soul Page 9

“I meant that literally,” he said, pulling back to give me a smile filled with pure heat.

  I looked down. Around my feet, a ring of fire had formed. “Eek. Um. Should I be worried?”

  “No. It can’t hurt you.”

  I tamped out a bit of fire that was meandering toward Rowan. “I can make fire?”

  He tipped me backward, his cheeks rubbing against my breasts, the sensation making my toes curl in ecstasy. “Dragons can, yes. I guess this means their mates have that ability, as well. From what I understand, it’s a reaction to strong emotions. Are you feeling strong emotions, Sophea?”

  “That’s an understatement,” I said, whimpering when he molested first one breast, then the other. My hands were still working on his belt, and finally got it free from the buckle, and the button on his waistband undone.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, cupping my breast.

  “You?” I said, hoping he wasn’t going to make me catalog my every desire, because at that moment, I had a metric butt-ton of them.

  That must have been the answer he was looking for, because he scooped me up and carried me to the bed. “That’s ironic, because I happen to want you very badly. Impossibly so, as a matter of fact.”

  “Did you have a dream, too?” I asked, trying to arrange myself on the bed so I looked like a goddess about to receive her lover rather than a rumpled tourist with unsexy underwear and jet lag.

  He paused as he was about to undo his zipper. “Why do you keep mentioning a dream?”

  “Ignore my mouth. It says unimportant things,” I said, donning a come-hither pose.

  He dropped his pants, then quickly removed his underwear and crawled across the bed toward me.

  “You changed out of your boots,” I said by way of conversation, suddenly feeling shy. What did I know about Rowan, really, other than the fact that I wanted him more than anything I could think of?

  He paused as he loomed over me, glancing toward the floor where he’d slipped out of a pair of brogues. “Yes, I did. Sophea?”

  “Hmm?”

  His eyes were guarded. “Did I misread your signals? Do you not wish for me to be here?”

  “Not in the least. I really do want to be with you, Rowan. I want to make love to you. I want you to make love to me. I’m just… it’s been a long time since I was with a man, and the first few minutes are always kind of awkward, don’t you think? I mean, in the dream, you were just there, naked, kissing my breasts and touching me, and holy hells, your penis was Mr. Hello, I’ll Be Your Penis for the Night. Oh, goddess, I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

  He laughed and pulled me up to him, one hand moving down to my thigh at the same time he leaned forward and kissed me. The dull heat inside me roared to life at the touch of his hand and mouth. “I like it when you babble. It’s been some time for me, as well, but I don’t see anything embarrassing here. All I see is a seductive woman who makes me insane with desire, one who has silky skin, glorious hair, and breasts that could make a sinner repent. Would you mind if I continued what we started in the other room?”

  “You have my fullest cooperation,” I said with a little giggle that turned into a gasp when he pulled off my underwear and bent over my personal bits, a wicked grin lighting up his eyes.

  They weren’t gold, though. They were a cloudy green.

  “I’ll hold you to that. Now, let’s see if you like this.”

  His head dipped down and I damn near came off the bed.

  “Yes!” I shrieked. “Yes, I like that. A whole lot. Do it again, please.”

  He did it again, and when I came close to going over the edge into an orgasm, he stopped.

  “You are… that was… mmrowr,” I purred, wanting to crawl up his body, and touch and taste him, all the while having him do the same things to me.

  He smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You are very responsive.”

  “If that’s your polite code for quick off the mark, you’re absolutely right,” I said, my entire body tight and humming and wanting so much more. I bit his shoulder, and gently pushed. With a raised eyebrow, he obligingly rolled onto his back.

  “Not that this is a time to mention past experience, but dear heaven, Rowan, you really do know your way around lady parts. Do you mind if I reciprocate? And touch you? All of you?”

  He tried to chuckle but it came out tight. “Be my guest.”

  My entire body was humming with anticipation, various and sundry parts of me demanding that I stop playing around and get down to business, but I’ve never been one to forgo some romping in the form of foreplay. I stroked a hand up his leg, thrilling in the sensation. “Mrs. P was right… you have really nice legs. I especially like your thighs.”

  “I object,” he said, looking down his body at me as I spread his legs and knelt between them. “I didn’t get to inventory you. If that’s your intention, then I want equal time. I—”

  He made an inarticulate noise and went stiff when I wrapped a hand around the base of his penis, giving it a friendly squeeze, not hard, just enough to let him know I was there.

  “Such an odd piece of the body,” I said, leaning forward to touch my tongue on what I figured was a sensitive spot. “And yet so very fascinating, too.”

  “Very,” he gasped, his hips bucking at my touch. “Sophea, you must stop doing that or I won’t be able to finish what I started.”

  I gave his sensitive spot one last swirl of my tongue, then enjoyed crawling up his body, kissing and nibbling my way up past that glorious chest. “I don’t suppose you have a condom?” I asked when I reached his mouth.

  He was writhing beneath me by then, but he stopped thrashing long enough to think. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was going to meet you. I’d have brought an entire box if I had.”

  “It’ll be okay this time,” I said, gently biting his lower lip. His hands closed around my hips, trying to position me where he wanted me. “I get a shot that takes care of birth control, but if we do this again, we should probably have a little talk.”

  “I’ll talk anytime you want,” he promised, his hands moving around to my breasts. His thumbs made gentle little sweeps across my nipples that drove the inferno in me out of control, and without a thought of whether or not what I was doing was smart, I positioned him in the appropriate spot, and slowly sank down.

  He groaned and closed his eyes with pleasure.

  I gasped and said in a voice about an octave higher than normal, “Goddess, you’re a lot beefier than you look. That’s just… I know it’s been a while, but still… criminy, there’s more of you?”

  All my intimate muscles rejoiced at the visitor and greeted him with a welcome embrace. And just when I was wondering if I’d ever come to the end of him, he started moving beneath me, and it was my erotic dream all over again.

  Heat and desire and the incredible sensation of having him move within me drove me into a spiral of pleasure that absorbed every iota of my being until, with a particularly vigorous thrust upward, he sent me falling over the edge into an orgasm to end all orgasms.

  I was dimly aware of Rowan’s hoarse cry when he joined me, but I did notice, a few minutes later when my brain managed to kick-start itself, that he was breathing just as raggedly as I was. I looked up from where I’d collapsed on his chest to bite him on the chin.

  “Ow,” he said without opening his eyes. “What was that for?”

  “I was checking to see if you were conscious. Great Caesar’s ghost, Rowan, that was a hell of an experience. Beyond hell of an experience… it was… would earth-shattering be too much, do you think?”

  Both corners of his mouth curled up, but his eyes remained closed. “That description works for me. And I can’t take all of the credit. You did some of the work. A minuscule amount, granted, because my part was clearly the most important, but I don’t want to be mean with regards to your contribution.”

  I wiggled around on him, doing a little Kegel to remind him that he was still inside of me. His eyes
shot open. “Your part may have been the star of the show, but let’s have a word of praise for my girly muscles. Those babies really worked overtime on you.”

  He grinned and kneaded my behind. “They did, indeed.”

  I rolled off him and glanced at the clock with a sigh. “Dammit. I should go check on Mrs. P, when all I want to do is snuggle and watch you fall asleep because you’re a man, and pillow talk bores you.”

  “How do you know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps I am the pillow-talkiest man who ever lived.”

  He had me there. I realized in the post-coital glow that I really had done it this time—I’d thrown myself at a man whom I knew very little about.

  “Sophea?” He propped himself up on an elbow, his expression concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No.” I sighed, and sat up. “You merely pointed out that I’ve gone and done it again.”

  “Done what again? Had sex? You weren’t a virgin, were you? I’m not an expert, but you seemed to know what you were doing—”

  “No, not that.” I tried to explain, but couldn’t find the words. “It’s just… I’m sorry.”

  “I have a horrible feeling that this is the part of the evening where you say the words, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ and I will end up returning to my room to sit by myself and wonder what the hell happened.”

  I looked at him, really looked at him sitting there with his adorable mussed-up curls, and his chin that I just wanted to bite again, and that glorious naked chest, and I wondered what on earth I’d done. It wasn’t like me to meet a man and suddenly fall under his spell… except that’s just what had happened with Jian.

  It wasn’t like me to want to touch a man I’d just met, and enjoy being with him, and think long, lengthy thoughts about his mouth, and what I’d like to do it, and what I’d like it to do to me.

  Except with Jian. I’d wanted to kiss him the first day I met him, too.

  I was an independent woman, one who didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Just because I started to squirrel away thoughts with the intention of sharing them with Rowan didn’t mean I was smitten with him. Women didn’t become emotionally attached to men after just a day.

  And yet, that’s exactly how long it had taken me to want to be with Jian forever.

  Oh, dear heaven, I was doing it again—I was falling in love with a man who was going to sweep me off my feet (in this case, literally)—and then after a mad whirl of a courtship, he’d leave me alone and grieving and empty inside again.

  “Ack!” I leaped from the bed, and gathering up my pants and shirt, made a dash for the bathroom.

  A minute later there was a polite tap at the door. “I’m going to guess I’ve made a huge error by assuming you were as into this as I was, and will take myself away so you don’t have to hide in the bathroom to avoid looking at me.”

  I opened the door, grabbed his head, and kissed him with everything I had in me.

  “Or not,” he said when I released him. He looked as confused as I felt. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

  “If you die in the next day, I’m never going to forgive you,” I told him.

  He looked like he was thinking about that for a few seconds, then gave me another of those sexy bows. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

  I smiled. I just couldn’t help myself. “You do make me happy. I’m just… I don’t have the best luck with men who make me happy. They tend to get run down in the street.”

  “I promise I’ll look both ways. Do you want me to help you find Mrs. P?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I know where she is.”

  He nodded and turned to leave. I followed him to the door to the hallway. “Rowan?”

  “Yes?” He glanced back at me.

  Dammit, I wanted to kiss the quirky corner of his mouth again. And the rest of it, come to think of it. “Thank you for helping with Mr. Kim and his buddy. As seriously awesome as my dragon’s mate self is, I’m not sure I could have handled both of them.”

  He smiled and started to turn away, then suddenly pulled me up against his chest, bent me backward, and kissed the breath from my lungs. His tongue did a sinuous dance that had my legs melting from underneath me. By the time he was done, I was just a giant puddle of desire. He propped me up against the door, and said, “I think you’re much more awesome than you give yourself credit for. Just don’t underestimate Kim and his ilk. They are more dangerous than you know.”

  I watched him walk to the doorway that led to the stairs before sliding down the door to the floor, fanning myself for a minute. “Hoo, boy. I think you’re the one I ought to be worried about.”

  I ran Mrs. P to earth twenty minutes later, after I had a quick wash and bribed the desk clerk to give me Edvard’s room number.

  “I want to talk to you in the morning,” I told her when I forcibly removed her from his room, where she was currently doing what she called the Dance of the Seven Towels. “We have a few things to chat about, not the least of which is why people have such an interest in your jewelry.”

  “You’re too serious,” she told me, humming to herself as she entered her room. “Why isn’t your man here? He should be taking care of you, not leaving you to fend for yourself.”

  I smiled a secret smile to myself, wondering if there was any chance in the world that I’d have a future with Rowan, or if our budding relationship was doomed from the beginning.

  “Now that smile is much more hopeful,” she said, closing the door in my face.

  I returned to my bed with the memory of Rowan’s body beneath mine, and erotic thoughts fighting with a good dozen or so questions for active brain time.

  It didn’t occur to me until hours later that he never answered my question about what he was doing in Mrs. P’s room.

  Seven

  Stepping out of the Cairo airport was like going from a madhouse to a madhouse located in an oven.

  I clutched Mrs. P’s arm and said under my breath, “Thank god for Akbar One. I couldn’t cope with this on my own.”

  The man in question must have heard me despite the din of taxis, people, and what seemed like a bazillion cars all crammed into an extremely small strip of road. “Yes, yes, I take good care of you,” Akbar said with a flash of very white teeth. He was a young man of probably early twenties, and introduced us when we arrived in Cairo by explaining that we’d see a lot of Akbars around (and we did—there were at least three others holding up signs reading Akbar followed by a number), but that he was the best. “You follow me, I take care of you. Very nice car will drive you to your hotel. I show you pyramids, yes? You want to see pyramids?”

  “Right now what I want most is a cold shower,” I answered, plucking my shirt from where it was stuck to my sweaty self.

  “Hotel first, yes, then pyramids,” Akbar agreed with an amiable smile, and continued to force his way through the great herds of people that swarmed the taxi and pickup zone.

  “I wouldn’t mind a good stiff drink,” a voice said behind me.

  I made a face at the owner of the voice. “This is a Muslim country, Rowan.”

  “That doesn’t mean one can’t find alcohol,” he answered and gestured me before him.

  I took a firmer grip on Mrs. P’s suitcase handle and plowed forward, keeping her close to me so she couldn’t escape on another one of her “adventures.”

  Akbar led us through the throngs, noise, and general sense of chaos to a medium-sized sedan.

  “I shall sit up front with the comely young man,” Mrs. P said when I tried to help her into the back of the car. She slipped out of my grip, and before I could do anything, she scurried into the front seat where she sat with a defiant glint in her eye.

  “I don’t think that’s really wise—” I started to say, but was interrupted when a somewhat breathless woman arrived and said, “Oh good, you got a car. We didn’t have time to book one, what with trying to take out the remainder of demons in Munich before we had to
fly out here.”

  May, the same small, dark-haired woman who was in the tea shop, brushed past me and entered the car, followed by Gabriel, the latter giving me a brief smile before he plopped himself down on the backseat.

  I looked first at Rowan, who was busy typing something on his phone, then into the car. “Uh… hello again. I hate to be rude, but I don’t think there’s enough room for all of us. Mrs. P and I invited Rowan to ride with us to the Hotel Cleopatra, and this isn’t a very big car…” I let the sentence trail off in obvious significance.

  “Oh, that’s all right,” May said, lurching forward awkwardly. “I’ll sit on Gabriel. He doesn’t mind.”

  “Far from it,” he said with a look that I felt was intended for her eyes only.

  “But…” I glanced back at Rowan, not wanting to be outright rude in throwing out these interlopers, but at the same time, I had been looking forward to spending some time with him since we hadn’t been able to talk at all during the flight from Munich to Cairo.

  Rowan finished his text and tucked his phone into his pocket, looking at me expectantly.

  I rolled my eyes toward the car in an attempt to get him to notice the occupants and, hopefully, have some advice about how to deal with them. Perhaps we could take a separate taxi? A glance down the taxi row left that idea dead at the start. Swarms of tourists were four deep on the sidewalk, all fighting over the available vehicles.

  “Go ahead,” he said, gesturing toward the car.

  Akbar hovered behind me, adding, “Yes, yes, there is much room, plenty of room for all. Your friends wish to see the pyramids, too? I shall take you to them and you will have a most excellent experience.”

  Resigned, I sighed and slid into the backseat. Rowan followed, giving May and Gabriel a little nod before smooshing himself in next to me.

  I had to admit that I didn’t mind being pressed up against him, especially since his hand was resting casually on my thigh, but after a few moments of enjoying that, I had to remind myself that even if I was now technically a merry widow, it didn’t mean I had to make obvious the fact that I wanted to jump Rowan’s bones right that very second.