Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

kissing so deeply the intimacy of it overwhelmed her.
    Never had she been so physically connected to another person. His arousal pushed at her, demanding acknowledgment her body was helpless to deny.
    Her nipples hardened almost painfully, her own scent revealing changes in her no human man would detect. But Eirik’s growl against her lips told her that he knew…and liked it.
    Moving his hands from her face to her hips, he pulled her flush to him so she felt the rigidity that proved his own need. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was incredible, this desire between them.
    He was amazing. So big…so strong. Even stronger than a wolf. That should have frightened her; she’d seen what the dragon could do, but all she felt was riotous desire. Her hands slid down his smooth but rigidly muscled chest.
    He’d worn a shirt to latemeal, but discarded it when he and the other warriors were dancing. His skin was so hot, but she found she craved that heat. She explored each dip and ripple of muscle, her hands unable to stay still once they started.
    He devoured her mouth, the predator in him demanding a submission her lips were only too happy to give.
    The kiss went on and on until she felt as if she would fall if he did not hold her up. The pleasure was beyond anything she had known. Never in all her life had she felt so close to her wolf, so intimately connected with another and so very alive.
    It was the last thought that had her tearing from his arms and gasping for air to calm the heat of her body.
    No. She could not do this. She could not risk these feelings.
    “What is wrong?” He looked around, his body tense for confrontation. “There is no one near. I would know.”
    If only it were that simple. She would much rather fear another rather than herself. “I cannot do this.”
    “This?”
    “You know.”
    “It was just a kiss.”
    “That…” She swung her hand wildly as if pointing to what they had just done. “That was not just anything.”
    “I’m glad you think so.” Sounding far too satisfied, he came toward her.
    But this time she showed her intelligence and backed up. When he did not stop, she put her hand up, warding him off. “No. Please.”
    “What is the matter, Ciara?”
    “I do not want a mate.”
    “I wasn’t offering to claim you.”
    That stopped her short. “Sex constitutes a claiming.”
    “We weren’t having sex, we were kissing.” And his scent told her he wanted to continue doing so. “Besides, the Éan do not recognize that stricture.”
    “Talorc is laird of this clan.”
    “He is not lord over my people though.”
    Ciara felt like she was drowning, her fear at what his words implied was so great. “Do you plan to murder Talorc as you did my brother?”
    She could not believe she had phrased her concern that way. It had not been her intention to make such anaccusation again. Not after her talk with Lais. Certainly, Eirik was not happy about it. All arousal in the air disappeared as fury so great it was more than a scent, she could actually taste it on the air, replaced it.
    Eirik’s scowl condemned her in a way no one had ever done, not even him when he accused her of not protecting the Éan children. But he did not answer her question.
    “Please.” Ciara tugged at her pleats, the heart that was supposed to be stone feeling ripped open in her chest. “He is the right laird for this clan. You cannot take that from him. You cannot take him from us.”
    “Talorc is my friend.” Eirik’s voice dripped with disgust.
    “Friends have killed friends before.”
    “I only answer because of your very obvious fear, but know this, I will not tolerate you seeding doubts among the clan along these lines.” The ice in his tone chilled her.
    But not enough that she would not press for answers. “So, tell me you don’t want to be clan leader.”
    “I do not.”
    After several seconds of silence, she realized he wasn’t going to add anything to that simple statement. But truthfully, he did not need to. His sincerity was as apparent as his desire had been earlier.
    “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “Make no mistake, woman, my loyalty is to Talorc, not the little femwolf he calls daughter but has not the decency to even call him by name. I do not need your thanks.”
    With that he left.
    She’d meant to push him away. She could admit that to herself. Her worry had been real, but the way she’d phrased it had been inflammatory and the dragon had caught fire and burned