Tropical Dragons Series Box Set - Naomi Lucas Page 0,24

ends floating in the water where they twist and dance like eels.

But my gaze stills on his body in its entirety. Having never seen his muscles so strained before, so tense that veins nearly pop from the surface, like something is trying to escape from him.

He’s fighting to keep it contained.

His hands wrench closed at his sides, and his wings go ramrod straight, spiking outward dangerously. Having felt them brush against me before—soft and sleek—they now have the appearance of weapons.

And his eyes—devilish and keen—serrate my soul, making me breathless. Hungry. Weak.

Wet, quaking, cold for his touch, his taste, his everything. The rich and musky scent of moss, so much more powerful than before, fills my nostrils, quickening my breaths. I need more.

Whatever is happening to him, is happening to me.

Shivers wrack my body. “Kaos?” I say his name hesitantly, hotly.

He takes a long stride toward me—all while staying within the red light. I scoot back, not because I want to, but because I’m fearing what’s about to happen.

“Come. Here. Or I will make you,” he says, low and hollow, his voice different and harsher than minutes ago; it eclipses my want and fills me with more fear, I don’t move. My palms slicken with sweat, and the spear shakes in my grip.

I can run, my mind roils. I can get down the cliff face—remembering what lays behind me. My mouth waters. Shaking everywhere now, my flight instincts begin screaming.

Rising to my feet, his gaze flares with passion, his muscles bunching even more. I take a slow step back and that cutting stare of his snaps to my feet. He releases a roar and lunges for me—and my stuttering instincts kick on. Pivoting around, I rush for the ledge.

But he’s too fast, too honed on his wants that his arms band around me right as I jump, yanking me back.

“Why are you doing this!?” I shriek as my makeshift spear is torn from my grip and falls with a clank on the stone.

His hands are everywhere on me all at once, pushing my clothes aside. Several bands tear as his large palms and fingers roam.

“Heat,” he rasps into my ear. “Mating heat.” He licks the curvy shell of my lobe, making every nerve and muscle of my sex knot. “I smell your pheromones, your arousal. Do not deny me, Issa,” he snarls against me, grazing his teeth and licking my hair, my inner ear, my cheek. “Your touch has bonded us, and now it is time to finish this!”

He shunts his hips against my butt, and his huge meaty prick slides across me. He’s lost his netted loincloth.

Grappling for purchase, and it’s so hard with his hands palming and touching my body—as if it’s his. I grasp his hands to stop him. “We’re not safe here.”

Kaos growls and spins me around, my feet haven’t touched the ground since he’s caught me. “Do you think I would let anything happen to you?”

I lick my lips. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Would you protect me from yourself?” My eyes drop from his to stare at his chest. And as if his body couldn’t get harder, it does, turning to stone under my palms. His moods twist and ricochet in me, sensations that are at once my own, but not wholly, not anymore. Panting, I wait for his answer. If he waits any longer, I’m going to drown in the heady aura his body gives off and wilt away.

But he releases me. I nearly hate him for it. He sets me on my feet, moves back, and steps into the water. My breath is excruciating. My toes curl, stopping me from crying out, going after him, and pulling him back to me. I search his face as he slips back under the streak of red shining down.

His intensity returns tenfold as confusion hits me.

“Come to me, Issa. I will not ask again.” This time, his voice is rough and demanding. Full of desirous pain.

I know because I feel it too.

14

Kaos Burns

Sliding back into the cool water, I watch my human mate quake at the ledge, uncertainty and lust painting her face. She is wet from the water, wet for me. The smell of her arousal scents the air, pushing me to the edge of my control.

No matter how badly I want to take her and pin her down, to find the deep, heated spot of her again—to shove my shaft so fully in that nothing remains to deny our bond—I wait. Male dragons, even alphas—at