Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

spine. Smoothing his hands over her hips, he cupped her bottom and, with a hum, she arched. Umm, she was sensitive. Her skin on fire from the time spent under and above him, from the exquisite pressure of having him deep inside her.
    “God…” She squirmed, nestling her head beneath his chin when he palmed the back of her thighs. His fingers pressed inward and she gasped, muscles quivering as he caressed her with light, teasing strokes. “Are you always like this?”
    “Like what?”
    “Insatiable.”
    Laughter rumbled up from his chest, making her smile. “With you? Par for the course, love.”
    And there it was…the compliment she craved. Stupid. Brainless. Way too needy. But she couldn’t help it. She needed to know that she pleased him. That he wanted her even now…with the wild passion fading and the quiet setting in.
    Dangerous. Moments like these were dangerous. The in-between time when everything could—and usually did—go wrong.
    Slipping sideways, Myst dismounted, pulling free of his body to settle at his side. Her head on his shoulder, arm slung across his chest, leg curled over his thigh, she tried to switch tracks. She didn’t want to doubt him or attach any expectations to the last few hours. Disaster lay in that direction, one full of excuses and empty promises. The inevitable “I’ll call you tomorrow, baby. We’ll do dinner.”
    She didn’t need that crap—or the lies—and Bastian’s intensions in the aftermath shouldn’t matter. He’d been generous to a fault. Had made her come so many times his skill blew her away. But even as she told her herself that physical pleasure was enough, she didn’t believe it. She wanted more. Casual sex wasn’t her thing, and would never satisfy her.
    Not when it came to Bastian.
    Self-preservation urged her to deny it, but what good would that do? Something powerful was going on between them. On her end, at least. Myst felt the connection, the all-encompassing draw as it pulled her into his orbit. Tethered there, she revolved around him, yearning for commitment while simultaneously fearing it.
    It was craziness squared. Emotional Russian roulette with all the chambers loaded. No way around it. She was going to take a bullet on this one.
    “ Bellmia? ”
    Myst swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yeah?”
    “Brace yourself.”
    “What for?”
    She yelped as Bastian flipped and the room pinwheeled. One up and over. A second time with the speed roll. The flash of ceiling-mattress, ceiling-mattress was all she saw over his shoulder. Like a circus performer, he dismounted, feet landing on the floor, arms locked around her.
    She sucked in a quick breath. “Holy crap, you—”
    He cut her off with a quick bend and toss. She gasped as her abdomen connected with his shoulder. Hanging upside down, butt in the air, and hair a tangled mess in her face, she growled at him.
    “Shower time, love.” His arm curled around the backs of her thighs, he caressed her bottom with his free hand, then gave her a gentle slap.
    “Hey!” She twisted to get a feel for his trajectory. She spotted the closed door across the room. “And what? You couldn’t just ask me?”
    “More fun this way.”
    “Caveman.”
    “Baby, you have no idea.” Turning his head, he nipped her hip.
    And oh, boy. Long live the Neanderthal.
    She caught a glimpse of white tile as the bathroom door swung open. Without slowing, he crossed the threshold. The water came on without him touching it, but she didn’t care. Magic. No magic. What did it matter? All she wanted was for him to unleash his inner caveman and…
    Oh, God, that was good.
    She parted her thighs a little more, moaning as he stroked her with his fingers. He went deep, touching just…the right…spot…and stepped into the shower enclosure. Warm spray rushing over her spine, he withdrew from her core and swung her off his shoulder. Her feet didn’t hit the floor, though. Between one breath and the next, he wrapped her legs around his hips, pressed her back against the tile wall and—
    “Oh, yes…pleeease,” she whispered, tilting her hips into his, welcoming his possession.
    Thrusting deep, he took her mouth, flicking her with his tongue, setting a pace that drove her wild. But despite her impatience, he kept it slow, circled deep, heightening her pleasure with each stroke, delivering his taste, making her gasp. Her hands clenched in his hair, a second away from begging, she sucked on his tongue. Yum. He tasted