Page 235 of Bound By Fire
He’s a smoky gray, with pretty green streaks running down his back and along the leading edge of his wings. The green catches the sun.
He’s beautiful.
I smile because I can’t help it. Even in his dragon form, he pulls something out of me that no one else does.
He lifts up onto his hind legs, lets out a low growl, and twin plumes of smoke trail from his nostrils. He whips his tail from side to side.
For just a second, I’m afraid because he’s enormous. He has teeth the size of my arm. The fear flickers, but I tamp it down.
This is Ridge. The male I love. There is no part of him that would ever harm me.
He drops back down and then, with one push of those massive hind legs, he’s in the air. His wings catch the wind, and he lifts, lifts, lifts, until he’s a long gray ribbon against the blue sky. He banks left, drops a wing, and comes back around in a slow circle above me.
I’m grinning so wide my face hurts.
He opens his mouth and lets out a stream of fire. It’s red and gold and orange all at once, twisting away into the sky like a banner. The heat washes over me, even from down here. I let out a small noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a gasp.
He’s showing off.
He’s absolutely showing off.
I love him so much it makes me dizzy.
Ridge banks again and starts a slow glide down. He lands a few feet in front of me, the grass flattening in a ring around him, and then he crouches low, folds his wings against his body, and stretches his enormous head out toward me along the ground.
I take a step closer.
His eyes are the same gray-green they are when he’s a man. He blinks at me slowly. He’s waiting.
“Hello, you,” I say softly.
I reach out and lay my hand flat on the bridge of his snout. The scales are warm and smooth, like sunbaked stone. He rumbles, and I feel it move through my arm and into my chest. He’s purring.
I giggle and stroke him some more, running my palm up between his eyes and over the ridge of bone there.
He huffs a warm breath against my belly, and I laugh harder.
I scratch the underside of his jaw, and his eyes drift half-closed.
“You like me,” I whisper.
A flick of his tail, light as a sigh, like he’s saying “Obviously.”
Then he draws back, lifts his head off the ground, and shifts again. The ripple, the sound, the stretch in reverse. A few seconds later, Ridge is standing in front of me, all naked, his hair a little wild, watching me with the softest look I’ve ever seen on his face.
He’s on me before I can speak. He hooks an arm around my waist and lifts me clear off my feet, and his mouth comes down on mine.
I wrap my legs around him and kiss him back. I push into him and run my hands up into his hair and pull, and I hear him groan against my mouth.
I rub myself against him without meaning to. I love dry-humping him and wet-humping him. Any kind of humping, as long as he is involved.
“Robyn.” He laughs into my mouth and lifts his head. “Behave.”
“You first.”
“Let’s eat. You can have your wicked way with me later.”
“Promise?”
