his eyelids. "You pronounce it, Ze-hir-ah-dan-gra," she whispered sexily into his mouth. "You won't forget me?"
"Not likely," he chuckled. "But I'm in big trouble already and this is only gonna make my domestic situation worse."
"She is jealous?" The hybrid beauty looked at him seeming confused.
Carlos nodded and smiled as he dragged his nose along her neck and watched the energy in her skin ripple. The slight caress made her thighs clench around his waist tighter in a rhythmic pulse that woke up his nature.
"If you come through the barrier, you'll have to get acclimated quick, then be on your way. My woman is a little on the crazy side, and also wields an Isis blade, comprende? She don't play, and has taken down more than dragons, all right?" He pulled back and stared at her to be sure she understood. "On the other side, it's real territorial, and you seem like a real cool sister, but she ain't having it. We clear?"
She nodded and touched his mouth. "Your eyes," she whispered, hers beginning to slide closed, "are beginning to turn." Her pelvis pressed against his harder. "May I?"
He hesitated. A throat strike from a dragon? "Ah... I don't know. What's the mix do to a brother on the other side?"
She was practically panting and he could see an opalescent sheen beginning to cover her brow. Her nails were beginning to gouge into his shoulders as she held him tighter.
"Could possibly help your flight patterns, improve navigation in the air... allow you to walk on mist," she whispered, "and to disappear at will." She offered him her throat. "You will not come out of this breathing fire... unless you want to."
While what she'd told him didn't seem all that far removed from his current skill set, still, there was the not so small matter of Damali being truly pissed off. Although he could fully explain how this was a necessary evil to get him back on the other side, lately Damali hadn't been very reasonable at all. Plus, with Cain just waiting for him to mess up, and Damali being so outdone about the whole Juanita thing... if he came home with a dragon bite... decisions, decisions. But it was not about staying here.
Before the beauty in his arms could draw another breath, Carlos leveled the sudden strike first. Her shriek almost shattered lair marble. He'd forgotten about the dragon's voice as artillery before flames. But he kept the siphon hard and strong. It was either mark her or get marked himself He was not going home like that, sexy as she was. This had to be a one-way kinda thing--let her get off, then he'd go home, take a shower, and explain it all later.
Oddly, as he drew what had the consistency of blood into his mouth, and played with the tasteless substance on his tongue, he could feel himself getting stronger as she scrabbled at his back, arched, and ground her hips in a frenzied circle against him. Natural instinct kicked in; he knew what she wanted. Problem was, how to give her that and still have a valid alibi when he got home.
He pulled out of the siphon, found the front of her gown, and slit it with a fang as he held her steady with one arm around her waist. His mouth immediately covered the hardened tips of her breasts, sweeping them with his lips, as his free hand drifted along her backside to find and enter her valley.
Her response was an elongated wail of ecstasy. He almost looked up to see if Cain was crossing the floor with a long blade. Shit... this was not the place for a man to get caught with his pants down. He didn't care what she said about the brother being cool. As she began working on his zipper, nearly ready to rip his jeans, he made another fast decision without time to weigh the consequences.
Now it was true, he'd never mind locked with a dragon before, but there was a first time for everything, he reasoned. He pulled his hands away from her body, held the sides of her face, gripped her mind as tightly as he could, and then found her opening again as he mentally entered her.
She nearly passed out in his arms and her nails dug into his shoulders. This time when his hand slid against her mound, it was wet and not his imagination. He pushed her against the side of the pool for leverage,