In a Dragon’s Dream by Riley Storm Page 0,38

heaving, not speaking, barely able to make sense of the world around them. Laura was battered, possibly bruised, and had never felt better. She’d never been treated like that, taken by someone so powerfully. Her mind was already playing it back, memorizing it, ensuring it would last.

Rakell shuddered and finally pushed himself upright. It seemed as though his mighty biceps were struggling with such a simple task. Had she drained him so? Laura let herself imagine, daydreaming for just an instant, that she’d brought the shifter to his knees, figuratively.

What power she must wield to have such an effect.

Though no power would ever truly be more than that of his dragon, of his other form. She wondered what it was like. What color was he, what were his scales like?

“Rakell,” she whispered, dragging her fingernails lightly across his chest. He was still inside her, but she knew that could not last. They were both spent.

Reaching above her while he gathered his breath to answer, she ripped free some paper towels from the vertical stand next to the sink.

This part was so not sexy, but it had to be—Rak took them from her hand without asking and as he withdrew, took care of much of it for her.

“Thanks,” she said with a laugh.

“I made the mess, I should clean it up as best I can,” he said with a wink.

“And a gentleman,” she murmured, biting her lip before taking control for the finer parts of the operation.

“You were going to ask me something?” he said, switching the topic.

“Yeah, I was,” she agreed. “I was wondering…”

“I think I have a guess,” he fired back, stepping away from her as she slid off the counter onto unsteady feet, raising his hands over his head and stretching.

The effect on his body was magnificent, and Laura took a moment to simply lean on the counter and admire his nude physique.

What a stud. Lucky me.

“Will you take me up to the mountain?” she asked quietly when he was done, still admiring the curves of his abs, and the firmness of his pecs. They could be cut from stone for all she could tell simply by looking at them.

“To the mountain?” he echoed.

She stepped forward, caressing his jaw, feeling the short stubble of a well-kept beard run under her fingers, tickling at the skin in a pleasant manner.

“Yes,” she said. “Will you show me your dragon? I want to see the real you.”

Rakell frowned. “My human side is as real of me as the other side is. I’m a mix, not a dragon who can shift into human form. I am both sides, and they are me.”

“And I feel like I only know half of you,” she countered. “I might know it quite well now, but it’s still only half.”

He smiled at her quip about their recent activity together. “I suppose there’s no harm in that.”

“So you’ll take me?” she repeated, standing up straighter with excitement at the prospect of finally seeing a real live dragon.

“When the time is right, of course,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping her up in a hug.

“Thank you,” she said, wondering for a time what he meant by that last remark.

Was now not the right time? Why not?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Laura

Working from home sucked.

Her fingers tapped away at the keyboard, letters and numbers appearing on the screen. The singular screen. Of her laptop. Laura was no tech nerd, but she had paid someone to set up her office for her. Three monitors and a full-size keyboard made life so much easier. She could do so much at once.

Now she was stuck tabbing between screens, trying to remember numbers, and constantly forced to go back and correct herself.

Not to mention how absolutely horrific using this blasted trackpad is compared to a mouse.

Laptops had their place, but they simply were not ideal for the type of work she needed done. Maybe for the author in the coffee shop they were perfect, but Laura detested them. Anyone who really needed to do any sort of serious work knew what she meant.

“I’ve about had it,” she growled as she fixed yet another number because of misremembering.

“Everything okay?” Rak called.

She glanced up from the kitchen table to where he sat comfortably on the couch, reading one of her murder-mystery books that he’d found near her bedside. He’d been nose deep in it all morning, and was nearly halfway done by this point.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” she said, grumbling incoherently as she fixed her mistakes again. “I’m just not