To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,21

insufferable desire for her. “Would that I could slay you.”

Her footfalls went silent, and Falthyris felt the distance between them widen with his strides.

“Then do it,” she challenged.

He halted and bowed his head, shoulders stiff, wings stretching, and tail lashing. Heat flowed through his veins, spreading outward from his heart to suffuse him entirely.

“You cannot do it, can you?” she asked. “As much as you wish to, you are unable.”

Falthyris curled his hands into fists, digging his claws into his palms. He recalled perfectly the feel of her throat in his hand—the same hand that had so easily torn apart the creature that had attacked her. The same hand that could not generate the force to do her any harm.

She couldn’t be correct. She couldn’t have this victory on top of the others she had already claimed. He would not allow it.

Heartfire blazing, he spun to face her and closed the distance between them in a few long, quick strides. “You are not worth the effort, human.”

Her dark eyes rounded with a glint of fear, but she stood her ground and held his gaze unwaveringly. “Then why did you come back for me?”

Rage, Heat, and heartfire collided in his chest, roiling into a firestorm he could not hold back. His hands darted out, grabbing the wet fabric of her robe, which he tore apart with a snarl, baring her chest and those black markings upon her belly. She swayed as though meaning to retreat.

Falthyris halted her by clamping his hand around her slender, elegant throat, pressing the pad of his thumb along the underside of her jaw. He felt her trembling, felt her fluttering pulse beneath his fingers. Her full, pink lips parted, and she curled her fingers around his wrist, but she was otherwise still.

He raked his gaze over her, studying the soft, delicate features of her face, the graceful line of her collarbone, the smooth curves of her chest mounds and the dark flesh that served as their peaks. Those circles tightened before his eyes, becoming hard points he longed to take between his lips and flick with his tongue. His eyes dipped lower, over her flat stomach and those intricate markings, stopping at that accursed scrap of cloth covering her pelvis.

With a growl, he tore the cloth away with his free hand, baring her slit to him. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and his tongue slipped out unbidden to draw more of that scent in.

“Because you have other uses, human,” Falthyris rasped. He forced his gaze back up to hers, struggling internally to fight back the surging Heat and lust within him even as his cock wept with want for her.

If he were to give in now, it would only further prove her power over him. His arm trembled, and his fingers flexed, the tips of his claws pressing against the soft skin of her neck.

She raised her chin and smiled. “Do it, dragon.”

That challenge stoked the flames of his heartfire, consuming him from within, burning his resolve to ashes.

Falthyris snarled as everything roiled to the surface and a crimson haze swallowed his mind. He swung the human around and forced her back until she was against the wall. She gasped, but held his gaze firmly, a lustful gleam brightening her eyes.

He dropped his hands, hooked them behind his female’s thighs, and lifted her, immediately stepping between the cradle of her legs. Without hesitation, he brought her sex down upon his cock and thrust into her slick channel.

His female gasped, and her thighs tightened around his hips.

Pleasure further clouded his mind, mingling with the Heat, and he bucked, driving himself as deep as he could into her hot sex.

She made another whimpering, breathy sound and slipped her arms around his neck. Falthyris hissed. This was not about intimacy, not about mutual pleasure. It was only about his release—about asserting his control over her. About showing this human her place. He should not have allowed that touch, should have shrugged her arms off, pinned them against the wall, should have made her feel as trapped as he did.

And yet Falthyris made no move to dislodge her arms. Her warm, smooth skin felt good against his scales, and he wanted to feel more of it. He wanted his mate to—

No! Not my mate. Not my female. She serves only as a means to obtain my release.

But she is my mate. Mine.

He shifted his hands to her backside and pumped his hips furiously, that word—mine—repeating in his

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