He is my home.
I don’t care that we aren’t heart-fated like he was with the mate he lost. I’ll tear the fabric of our souls and make knots in it to capture this moment for keeping. He’s mine by my demand alone, and I will not forfeit any ground.
My nails dig into the cushion under me, my body climbing with each growling thrust from Kalos as he moves with abandon. I speak words I don’t dare keep trapped in my heart. Words about need and want and conquering that neither of us will be able to understand.
The smack of his knot against my clit is enough to bring me to the cliff’s edge, and the vibrating growl of the dragon inside of me catapults me off it.
This time, when I break, it’s not a weak climax that leaves my limbs like noodles. It’s cataclysmic. An explosion of colors, thoughts, and pleasure accost my body and mind.
It’s painful euphoria, but I’m not alone. I cry out at the pressure of Kalos’s teeth over the scar he left at the crook of my neck. He doesn’t break skin, only holds me in place and muffles the roar of his beast.
His cocks swell, and hot rushes of seed fill me everywhere. I sob in ecstasy as the pressure from the release fills me until there’s nowhere left for it to go. Excess cum leaks from my stretched body, and I bite the cushion under me when I feel it run down my legs.
I tighten around him to try and keep it inside, but it only releases another gush.
“There’s so much,” I marvel.
Kalos pulls his softening cocks from my body, and more seed leaves me in a rush. He nuzzles my ear. “I didn’t dare try and make you take my knot with how filled you already were.”
I glance down, and he releases the firm grip he had on his knot to trick his body into thinking he’d locked it inside me.
I hum, half-delirious. “I appreciate that.”
I move to push up from the cushion, but Kalos presses my back down again.
“A moment, little queen.”
I don’t know what he means until I turn my head and take in the expression on his face. His eyes glint like he’s discovered some treasure for his hoard as he watches where his release oozes from me. My cheeks burn, and hiding my face in my arms does nothing to dim the cheery glow in my chest.
Introspection does. I ponder the thoughts I had during our coitus while Kalos enjoys the spectacle of his seed leaving me. Our bodies communed in almost a sacred way, leaps and bounds from what we’ve communicated with words.
“We should talk,” I mumble. There are things I want to admit to him. Demands I want to make while they’re still fresh.
“I know,” Kalos says, finally pulling me upright and sinking us in the hot water again. My human brain stalls a little at the idea of dirtying the soaking pool, but magic solves a lot of things involving hygiene.
The expression on Kalos’s face when he turns me in his arms speaks of all the things we tiptoe around. Mainly, the feelings we have for one another. The resistance to those feelings that I won’t tolerate to stay, but I don’t want to push him past what he believes is possible.
“Give me some time, Rina,” Kalos says as he runs the talon of his thumb over my lips and cradles the side of my face with the texture of his scaled hand.
I shiver at the memory of him saying my full name with reverence I’ve never experienced before. I have to believe that what we have between us won’t shatter with a little conflict, but I don’t want to be the one making demands alone. The fear of being left behind after feeling so connected to this dragon makes it hard to speak.
Kalos dips his forehead to touch mine. “I will give you the answers you seek, but I need time to find them.”
The relief that he’s not going to try and deny what’s brewing between us has my shoulders dropping.
“Promise?” I ask. I am not a coward, but some strategy is probably wise when it comes to matters of the heart.
Kalos’s golden eyes glow with intent.
“I promise.”
30
KALOS
“I NEED to speak to the proprietress of this place. I won’t be long.” I allow myself one more caress of Katarina’s oiled skin.
She makes a soft sound. It’s been a long time since I’ve given a full body massage, but I still have enough skill to leave the mother of my young as practically a puddle. Her head rests on her folded arms at the edge of the soaking pool, keeping her head above water while she dozes.
Our daughter draws a lot on Katarina’s energy even with the heat I feed her. That, combined with our activities, and Katarina deserves a nap. I couldn’t keep my hands from going through the motions of pampering her if I tried. It’s my honor—and pleasure—to try to alleviate any discomfort she’s in because of me.
I kiss her shoulder, and her lips curve in a satisfied smile.
Her body is lush and tempting, skin heated and supple from the water. The memory of the emerald-jeweled end of the plug between her cheeks is a vision that I ache to replay over and over again. That’s a toy that we’re keeping.
This thief has stolen my peace of mind, among other things I didn’t know still existed in my craven soul, and I need to make sure it’s a neat job for her. No loose ends that will leave our lives unraveling in distress.
To that end, I must meet with the soul witch that runs this place.
It’s quick work to dry myself off and redress. I take the key with me, locking the wards behind me as I go. The security of the bathhouse is impressive.
I turn toward the lobby but pause. The light scent of citrus that signals the matchmaker leads me in the other direction. I follow it down the low-lit hallway before coming to an open doorway. A man’s voice rumbles under a soft feminine laugh.
I enter and clear my throat at the sight of the redheaded witch I seek in the arms of a dark-haired man.
The man’s aura strikes a familiar note.
“Gideon,” I greet him. We don’t know each other well, but immortals are few in this modern age. I spare a glance at the matchmaker’s pregnant stomach and tuck the detail away. I’d assumed that krakens didn’t breed, but I’m obviously mistaken.
Rose pushes away from the kraken, but he doesn’t release her immediately.
“Kalos. What do you want?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“He needs to speak with me,” Rose says, poking his chest. I don’t question how she knows that. The glance she’d given me earlier tonight made it clear that she senses my issue.
“Your mate can stay,” I say. I prefer if he didn’t. I enjoy my privacy, but if the roles were reversed, there’s no way that I’d leave my pregnant mate in the presence of a powerful immortal.
I’m here asking for help. It does me no favors to make demands to shield my weaknesses.
“I hear that you work with soul threads,” I say.
Rose nods and pushes away from Gideon again. This time he lets her go and takes a place leaning against the wall. I ignore his watchful stare while his mate rounds the table heading to the cabinets.
“I do work with soul threads. Tea?” she asks.
“No thank you,” I force out, swallowing the discomfort down. Tea from a witch like Rose Love means talking and comfort… it means bad news.
Rose’s shoulders drop, and she turns back toward me. “Right to it, I guess.”