Up In Smoke
Page 54

 Katie MacAlister

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He grinned again, grabbing the hand I had held out for him, edging forward until he found the small round glass table next to me. Carefully, he set down the covered bowl and the feather. ‘‘Not deviant, Mayling. Well, perhaps a little. Now I shall undress you, and then we will be able to proceed.’’
I watched with amusement as he groped his way over to my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. ‘‘I wouldn’t be female if I didn’t attribute the fact that you’ve had to blind yourself before touching me to a sudden, overwhelming disgust at my appearance, but knowing you, I suspect it has something to do with some perverted sense of determination to provide me with foreplay. Or are you just suddenly indulging your tactile senses?’’
‘‘The sun will never rise on the day in which I do not look at you and am overwhelmed with my incredible luck in having such a breathtaking mate, Mayling.’’
My toes curled at his words. ‘‘Thank you,’’ I said, attempting to accept the compliment with more grace than I normally possessed. ‘‘But if that’s the case, then why—’’
‘‘I am a visual person. If I see you sitting there, all naked and silky skinned, I will not be able to control myself. I have tried, and failed, but at least I know why I have failed. By limiting my ability to see, I will eliminate the worst part of the temptation. It will still be a struggle to exhibit control over my other senses—’’ His hand froze for a moment when I shifted so that my breast brushed his palm. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down for a moment. He cleared his throat and moved his hand away from my breast to pull my now-unbuttoned shirt off. ‘‘—but I think it will help.’’
‘‘You are a strange man,’’ I told him, watching as he tossed my shirt onto the floor of the balcony. Before he could reach for me again, I divested myself of my pants, shoes, and underwear.
‘‘I am a dragon, Mayling. As the shard has shown you, we feel things differently than humans. Now for your jeans.’’ His hand descended upon my bare belly. His fingers flexed for a moment.
‘‘Already off,’’ I said, leaning forward to press a kiss crookedly on his mouth. ‘‘What do you have in the bowl? Is it something sticky? Honey?’’
‘‘Better than honey,’’ he said, clearing his throat again. I smiled to myself. Gabriel normally had an incredibly sexy voice, made up of tones that stroked my skin like velvet, but whenever he struggled to control himself, it deepened, becoming huskier, which in turned aroused me all that much more. ‘‘It’s gold.’’
‘‘Jewelry?’’ I asked, remembering how gold affects dragons. It seemed to act as both an aphrodisiac and a sort of dragonish catnip, driving them wild.
‘‘No.’’ He smiled and reached for the bowl, pulling off the cloth covering it. Inside was a small fan brush and a pool of goldish powder. ‘‘Gold dust. I’m going to paint you with it and lick it off. I believe that will qualify as—oof!’’
I had a momentary image of what Gabriel was proposing when the scent of the dust reached my nose. A tidal wave of desire crashed over me, sending me forward as I shoved him backwards onto the floor, one hand grabbing the bowl, sprinkling the gold all over him. My fingers elongated, turning silver, the crimson tips biting into his sides as I gave in to the unbridled emotions that churned within me.
‘‘Take me,’’ I said, rubbing my body against his in a sinuous, gold-flecked dance. His entire body stiffened for a second; then I bit his shoulder and squirmed against him again, overwhelmed with the need to be joined together. ‘‘Now.’’
Luckily, his control wasn’t as great as he thought it was, because all it took was one little bite, and in a flash, I was on my back, Gabriel looming over me, his head blotting out the sun, the eyeshade askew, leaving one silver eye uncovered. I knew the moment the scent of the gold hit him. His body tightened as if he was going to spring, and then he was there inside of me, our bodies and souls joined in a wild frenzied dance that was more beautiful than anything I’d ever beheld.
Deep, primal urges drove me on, visions flickering in my head of things I couldn’t begin to understand. I moved, and he moved with me, our bodies moving in a manner that was unlike anything I’d experienced. We rushed toward a climax, driven too mad by the scent and taste of the gold to do anything else, and at the moment when I gave myself up to it, up to him, the world changed. It shifted even as I shifted, my body elongating at the same time Gabriel’s did, arms and legs and tails and necks entwined with a glittering silver brilliance, a nova of passion that exploded even as a star explodes, filling the sky with its radiant light.
We fell back to the earth one silver-scaled microscopic piece at a time, our beings gently twirling around each other, as if someone had sprinkled the air with glitter. I lay strewn upon the surface, content just to be, content to know that whatever else would happen to or in my life, I could never be separated from Gabriel.
A loud knocking at the door, accompanied by muted voices, disrupted my philosophical meanderings. I was brought back to reality with a sudden jerk as Gabriel lifted me off of the floor of the balcony and carried me into his room.
‘‘What is it?’’ he called, setting me down next to my bags. I grabbed the nearest one and made a run for the bathroom even as he jerked on a pair of jeans to answer the door.
My legs were weak, my hands shaking as I dug through the bag, then stepped back to rub the sudden crop of goose bumps that rose on my arms. The experience I’d just shared with Gabriel was still strong in my mind, too strong. ‘‘It wasn’t me,’’ I told the mirror that did not contain my reflection. ‘‘I’m not a dragon; I’m not.’’
I looked down at my gold-dusted torso and shuddered. I was being consumed by the dragon shard. I was changing, turning into a dragon, and that scared me to the tips of my toenails.
What if Gabriel preferred me as a dragon? What if he’d prefer to have a dragon mate, someone who understood his emotions, his needs, the things that drove him? How could I possibly begin to explain to him the fear that I was losing myself?
The door opened. I clutched at a piece of clothing in an attempt to cover myself, but it was just Gabriel. He marched over to a large shower and yanked the faucet so that the three showerheads burst to life. ‘‘I wish I had time to wash the gold off you in a manner that would please us both, but we do not have time, little bird.’’