To Love a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,60

was leading him.

He stretched his neck forward and urged his legs to move quicker, curling his claws down to find some purchase, but he gained no additional speed. His heart thumped, and his spines rose in agitation and desperation. His spark crackled with yearning.

Leyloni.

The mist thickened, further obscuring the surrounding forest. Yet the firefly trail only became brighter and more distinct.

Destiny. This path was his destiny, and he could not alter its course, its speed. It would take him exactly where he needed to go. It would take him to her. He’d waited hundreds of years already, what was a little longer?

As though in answer to that question, heat raced along his spine, thrumming outward in arcs of lightning to permeate his scales, muscles, and bones. His loins pulsed, kindling a now familiar ache. That familiarity was like an itch in the back of his mind, too deep to scratch, but he could not place it—not with the mist creeping over his thoughts.

The fireflies ahead flared with new intensity, briefly brighter than the sun. The mist parted as that intense light vanished, revealing a clearing ahead that was filled with pure moonlight, the ground blanketed in lush grass and white flowers.

But there was only one scent on the air—Leyloni’s scent. Arysteon’s chest swelled as he filled his lungs with her perfume, and his stem pressed insistently against his slit.

A large, flat rock appeared in the center of the clearing. Leyloni lay atop it, naked, her long, curly hair spread around her, her pale skin awash in silver light, her eyes gleaming.

Though Arysteon had felt no change, he was suddenly walking upright, on two legs, as he strode toward her, his hands balled loosely at his sides. Leyloni, torso propped up on her elbows, parted her supple thighs.

The fragrance of her arousal sent a delighted shiver down Arysteon’s spine. He had held back for what had felt like an eternity, but now…

He groaned as his stem extruded fully, twitching with need in the night air.

Leyloni’s skin pinkened as Arysteon reached the stone. The petals of her sex were glistening, beckoning him closer still. He scarcely noticed that the petals of the surrounding flowers had become just as pink.

The ache in Arysteon’s loins spread into his lower belly. Everything within him was hot, tight, and needy. He needed her.

Heat baked over his scales as he climbed atop the rock, crawling over her to wedge his hips between her thighs. Her skin was impossibly pinker, and the gleaming light in her eyes had gone from white to red. The flowers on the ground were the color of her blood. And still, her scent filled his nostrils, filled his mind, claimed his awareness. Fire blazed at his core, at once separate from his spark and intertwined with it, burning outward to course along his limbs.

He growled and dipped his head to trail his tongue along her neck, taking her scent and taste directly from her skin. He pressed the tip of his stem to Leyloni’s entrance. His limbs trembled with overwhelming desire.

Arysteon needed to rut. Needed to claim her. Needed to take her again and again, because his hunger for her was insatiable.

The mist flowed into the clearing, an encroaching crimson fog that bathed Arysteon in withering heat. Its red tendrils caressed his scales, leaving delicious agony in their wake.

He thrust his hips forward, plunging into Leyloni’s tight, welcoming sex.

Arysteon’s eyes snapped open, and a ragged breath escaped his lips. His vision was obscured by a crimson haze, and the rapid pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear. Heat coursed through his muscles, instilling them with restlessness, with a powerful need for action. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He needed Leyloni, yearned for her, had just been…

Dreaming. He’d just been dreaming.

The solid weight he’d lacked in that dream world had returned to him now, and he was lying quite firmly upon the ground. There was no rock beneath him, there had been no trail of fireflies leading him to his mate.

Leyloni lay against his side, her body warm with sleep beneath their shared blanket, his arm securely around her shoulders. The small fire nearby cast a hint of warmth on him, as well, which would have been welcome had the air still possessed the slight night chill it should have maintained until closer to summer. But neither of those sources of warmth could compare to the stifling heat radiating in the air around him—or the even more intense heat at his