Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

EMBER

T his is so stupid. Storm broke my heart into a million pieces. It doesn't matter that we're true mates. I should never trust him again.

But I can feel his heart beating beside mine. His remorse reaches into the deepest places within me; there's no doubting his sincerity. He did what he did for a reason. How long can I stay mad at a man for hurting me out of some misplaced hope that he could save his family and his kingdom?

He's here now. He came to me, armed with enemy intelligence and an unqualified apology, and I just miss him so damn much.

My other mates' touch healed so many of the broken pieces inside of me, but there were still wounds that their love couldn't reach.

Now? Here, with Storm's mouth both soft and hot against mine?

My eyes burn, so I close them, focusing on the firm planes of his chest, the warm embrace of his arms. The gentle exploration of his kiss--so achingly familiar and yet so strange.

He was my first kiss--my first everything.

I can't believe we're here again. I always dreamed he'd be my fated mate, if only I could call forth my dragon. But it never happened, until now.

What changed?

An immediate answer rises to my thoughts.

Everything .

I changed. I suffered a heartbreak and the loss of the closest thing I had to a home. But it was a home I was dumped in, where I never fit.

I found a new one, here in Unity. I found a friend who's like a sister and three other incredible men.

The Shadow Queen's Bracer chose me, and I discovered magic running through my veins. I'm literally a different person--a different dragon--than I ever imagined becoming.

An ugly, scared hiccup of a laugh threatens to escape me.

I'm still terrified of everything I might be. But that fear only makes me throw myself into this moment with Storm all the harder.

Grinding down on the huge bulge of him through his jeans, I gasp aloud. Hot sparks of pleasure zip up my spine, igniting the tender points of my breasts. He groans, gripping my hips, but I can't tell if it's to egg me on or slow me down; I'm not sure if he knows, either.

"Ember," he breathes, over and over against my lips, and it's too plaintive. Too emotional by half.

I'm wrung out, and all I want to do is lose myself in this. In my mate.

I start to murmur his name, but it gets lodged in my throat, the shape of it still too painful to force past my lips.

But it could be worse.

"I'm so glad you aren't Fury," I mumble between kisses.

His growl is even louder than it was the last time I told him that, and I kiss him again, laughing beneath my breath.

"What? I am," I remind him.

But he's not joking.

"Ember," he says, parting from my mouth. "You have to know you're it for me. You always have been--I just couldn't say it then."

Overwhelming sadness shadows my heart. I always felt the doomed nature of our affair, back when we were together. It pressed on my heart to the point where I could scarcely breathe.

"I know."

"But that's all behind us now," he promises, and it is, isn't it?

He left the Air Kingdom and his toxic family. He did what I always secretly wanted him to do. He gave up his crown and his responsibilities.

He chose me.

So why can't I help feeling like whatever lies ahead of us is going to be even harder?

"We were meant to be," he tells me.

I feel the truth of it in my bones, but I also feel the grief of all the time we lost.

I'm done mourning, though.

When I crash my mouth to his once more, it's with renewed fervor. I'm in charge today. I'm the freaking Shadow Queen's heir, for fuck's sake. His position as the younger prince of the Air Dragon Kingdom doesn't matter anymore.

Everything I ever felt but had to hide--that's over now.

Parting my lips, I dart forward with my tongue, daring to take what I want from him in a way I might not have back before. He groans in appreciation, letting go of my hips to skate his hands up my back and sides. Memories rise up in my flesh as he cups my breasts exactly the way I've always liked.

"So gorgeous," he breathes as he slips a hand up under my shirt. "I love your skin."

I muffle a ghost of a sob. I love his skin, too. Releasing his mouth, I kiss my way across his stubbly cheek, reveling in the burn. I suck on the point of his jaw before gliding my lips over his throat. He tastes the same as ever, and yet completely new.

He tilts his neck to the side, inviting me to bite at the point of his pulse, and I do. His fingers tighten on my breast, and sharp, achy pleasure shoots straight to my swollen clit.

"Thought I'd never touch you again," he rasps, and Jesus Christ, is he really going to make me cry when all I'm trying to do is fuck him?

I scrape my teeth over his collar bone almost hard enough to draw blood, and he gasps.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, and I do it again and again.

His desire reverberates through our bond, meeting my own and driving it even higher. Sharp need gathers between my thighs, our connection demanding satisfaction in a way that's hungry and raw--and made all the more so by the tumbled-up mess of my emotions for this man.

The best I can, I struggle to stay present, though, focusing on the feeling of his body underneath mine, the heat of his hands and the sound of his moans. Greedy for more, I tug at his shirt, and he releases me long enough to reach behind his neck and pull off his shirt.

He's a feast for the eyes--miles of sculpted, tan muscle stretching out over his perfectly developed pecs and abs. I run my nails over all that beautiful flesh, forcing down another pang inside my chest. We were always so rushed to be together, usually reduced to having frantic, desperate sex in his car or his garage. I had so few opportunities to get him completely undressed.

Well, I'm not wasting the chance to see him naked now.

I tear at the rest of his clothes, and he's only too happy to oblige. I fumble to get the fly of his jeans open, and he lets out another rough sound of pleasure as the pressure on his cock is released. Through the fabric of his underwear, he's achingly hard and already leaking, and deep inside, I spasm with need.

"Off," I breathe, and he lifts his hips, helping me to shove all his offending clothing down.

His naked cock springs free, and is possible to be this horny and this nostalgic all at once?

"Fuck, I missed you," I murmur, and yeah, it's messed up that I find it easier to say that to his cock than to say it to him.

His chuckle of laughter dies when I take his cock in hand and give the hot, hard flesh a long stroke. His eyes rolling back in his head, he moans. "Missed you, too, Ember--Jesus, so much."

A terrible thought enters my brain. "Did you--while I was gone--"

His eyes snap open and he covers my hand with his own. " Never ," he tells me, fierce. "How can you even ask?"

I shrug, relieved but also somehow still hurt. "You had no reason to think I'd ever come back. You're this rich, sexy, powerful prince. Why wouldn't you--"

"Because I love you." The earnestness in his eyes is painful. "I gave up all hope of ever getting you back, but I didn't move on. How could I?"

I swallow hard. Guilt hits me right in the gut. But I refuse to be ashamed. "I did." I bite the inside of my lip. "I mean--not emotionally. I'm still basically devastated."

I might have covered up my hurt. Hell, I might have even convinced myself that I was over it.

But deep inside, my love for Storm never went anywhere.

"But I've been with other men," I admit.

Smiling sadly, he cups my face. "I know."

And it's weird to be talking like this when he's naked on a bed, and I'm hovering over him, completely clothed. But when else are we going to discuss it?

"I met your mates," he reminds me. "You all basically told me that you--" His voice cuts off, his Adam's apple bobbing. There's hurt in his tone, but his eyes are dark with hunger.

I lift a brow, trying to keep things light. "Have giant orgies?" I supply.

His fingers dig into my side, possessive and oh-so-sexy. "I wouldn't call a foursome a giant orgy."

"What would you call a five-some, then?" I ask, and where is this boldness coming from?

Other than the fact that--at least if I have anything to say about it--we are absolutely going to have a five-some. Soon.

"A privilege," he tells me quietly, and then those soft hands on my face are pulling me in.

I go without argument. Taking me with him, he drops back to lie on the bed where I made love with Malik and Jianyu and Rafe just this morning. The sheets have been changed, but the air still holds the memory of what we did together here.

As complicated as my feelings may be, I never thought I'd get to do it with Storm, too. That he'd ever choose to be here like this again with me.

"It's okay," he murmurs, kissing me too gently when what I need is firmness.

Or maybe he knows what I really need.

Slowly--so slowly--he pulls away my defenses, rubbing his big hands all up and down my spine in a way that's both sensual and comforting. I shiver unconsciously, softening in both my body and my heart.

Gradually, I melt into him, giving in to his deliberate pace. Only then does he slip his fingertips under the hem of my shirt again. The points of contact glow as he strokes my skin. Our tongues tangle, and I find myself astride his lap again. My center grazes his erect, bare cock through my jeans, and he lets out a breath. I want to grind down on him, but I know how sensitive he is.

I reach up and pull off my shirt. My bra follows it, and my already tight nipples pebble into stiff buds in the cool air.

Storm's eyes are saucer plates as he drinks me in. He brushes the backs of his knuckles up the soft skin of my belly before tracing a slow circle around my aching breasts.

"Beautiful," he whispers.

We kiss again, my hair falling in a curtain around his face as he takes my nipples between his fingers and his thumbs. He plucks them expertly, reminding me that he was the one to discover what I liked, back when I was a lone-wolf virgin, shocked to discover that anyone I wasn't related to would give me the time of day. He cups me, the broad pads of his fingertips holding the full weight of my breasts, and I stifle a moan.

"That's it." He traces his hands down my sides until they rest at the waistband of my pants.

Parting wetly from his mouth, I nod.

Together, we strip off the rest of my clothes. I flutter inside when I'm fully naked beside him, but he just lays me down and covers me with his body. We kiss and kiss, his hard cock patiently resting in the valley of my hip, time going soft and slow as I relearn the shape of him. He's utterly reverent as he coasts his broad palms all up and down my bare skin. The tenderness hurts, but it feels too good to be like this with him.

Then he finds the wet, soft place between my thighs.

I cry out at the expert touch of his fingers, parting my lower lips. He slips them over my clit before prodding at my opening, dipping just inside.

"So wet," he murmurs, stroking gently over my swollen flesh.

I shudder, my mind still tentative but my body melting into his familiar touch. "We've been making out for hours."

"Shh, let me have this."

I shudder. Isn't that what I've been letting him do here, all along?

He kisses down my chin and over my throat, and I arch into him as his fingertips start up gentle circles around my clit. The pressure is too soft; he's not driving me toward orgasm--just toward the sharp edge of arousal where I'm destined to be soft and desperate in his arms. His hot mouth closes around my nipple, with just the slightest hint of teeth.

Did we ever have the chance to take our time like this?

Do we have the time now?

Outside this room, I can feel my other mates' restlessness, but they understand the importance of what's happening between me and Storm.

Their presence nearby is just one of so many sensations flitting through my consciousness as Storm continues his excruciatingly slow journey down my body. After mouthing at both of my breasts in turn for what feels like hours, he traces a wet path over my navel and to the crest of my hip. He places gentle, damp kisses to the outsides of my parted thighs, and I tilt my hips upward. My insides are on fire, my inner walls fluttering helplessly around nothing. My clit is practically standing up, begging to be touched and kissed and stroked.

"So pretty," he murmurs, his breath hot on my slick, swollen flesh.

I laugh, but that only has me clenching down harder where I'm empty and aching. "Glad you like."

"I love." Then he drops his mouth to my sex.

The hot jolt of pleasure is a lightning strike crackling all the way to my fingers and my toes. A rough noise escapes me, and I tip my head back. With one hand, I reach for the bed frame, and with the other, I twist my fingers through his thick, dark hair, holding him to me as he licks broad stripes all up and down my gash.

His bone-deep knowledge of my body makes a traitor of me. My knees quake and my insides quiver, and within minutes, I'm gasping for air, overwhelmed by the soft flicks of his tongue. He zeroes in on my clit, slipping two fingers into my opening, and holy fuck, he has no right to still be so good at this.

Ecstasy barrels down on me before I have time to so much as brace myself for it. Obscenities pour past my lips, and he stretches me wider with his fingers, beating a faster rhythm with his tongue on my clit until I'm panting and sweating, twisting in the sheets. Helpless.

"Storm--" His name feels like pain and sounds like love, and then I'm shattering, sent soaring into the air on a wave of pleasure so sharp it tears me through.

Storm coaxes me through the impossible peak, gentling me with his fingers and his tongue. I fall back to earth on a gust of wind that cradles me like the most fragile leaf. All the pieces of me that fell apart knit back together.

Fluttering open my eyes, I look down to find his piercing, silver gaze staring up at me from between my spread thighs, and it's like he sees clear into the very heart of me.

And what was I thinking, imagining I could hold this man at arm's length? What he did to me is so far from being forgiven or forgotten, but I've loved him since the moment I saw him. Our bond-mate connection sings, silver light flowing around us, and I need him.

He's the missing piece of me.

"Storm," I whisper again, and as I do, a single tear falls down my cheek.

"Shh, love, shh--" He climbs his way up my body until his knees slip under my thighs. His pelvis holds my legs open, his fingers still gently rocking within me. He pulls them free, leaving me shuddering and gaping and desperate to be connected--to be filled .

Shaking my head, I roll him over onto his back, rubbing myself against him shamelessly. My dragon growls in my chest, ready to claim her mate as her own. As I drag my swollen clit over the underside of his cock, sparks of pleasure dance across my vision. I get him all wet and messy with my slickness, torturing us both. He holds onto my hip, trying to slow me down again, but I'm done with that.

"Mine," I growl, barely recognizing the deepness in my voice.

Because that's what he is now. Mine . Not just in stolen moments--borrowed only to be given back to his crown once our time together is done. The threads of our fates are forever woven. He's the air in my lungs, the breath in my body, the answer to the hollowness I could never seem to close over, deep within my soul.

"Yours," he breathes, giving in.

I reach between us, lifting his cock to stand up at attention beneath me. I line him up, shimmering inside.

And I slide myself brutally, inexorably down.

I howl as his huge length fills me, and he throws his head back, his fingertips leaving bruises in my skin, but I welcome the pain. He clutches me to him, and I thrust myself the rest of the way down. The fullness within me is exquisite, the pressure on my clit so perfect.

"Yes, yes," he mutters, "take me, take it all--take what you need--"

So that's exactly what I do.

All the years of hiding. The pretending and the pain of being denied. His rejection. His declaration that I was nothing to his family and his kingdom.

I exorcise it from my system, and every bit of the pain is driven out of me as I fuck myself on his perfect cock.

Over and over again, I lift myself up and slam myself down. My breasts bounce with the force and speed of my movements, and he's groaning my name, coasting his hands over every inch of me like I'm something precious, something divine--and goddammit all, I am. I'm a jewel, a goddess, maybe a queen.

I'm a Shadow Dragon, and the darkness within me swells.

Orgasm creeps over me with irresistible force. I don't slow down, though, riding into a headwind and daring it to break me. I crest on a scream, coming around his cock so hard it blinds me, but I keep riding him. Harder and harder, faster and faster, until my thighs burn.

"Ember--" he growls.

And then he's flipping us, but I refuse to cede an inch. I keep us rolling until I'm on top once more, fucking him at a punishing pace. But who am I punishing? Him or me? Him for hurting me--or me for letting him?

We're perilously close to the edge of the bed, but I don't care. Even when my hand slips beside his head--when my arm is about to give out and my knees ache.

"Ember," he says again, more urgent this time, and I don't want to hear it. " Ember --"

He sits up beneath me, and I'm powerless to fight him, and I hate that. I'm the one in control now. I have the magic and the fucked-up prophecy. He's just one of my four mates.

So why does it still feel like he can destroy me?

More tears leak from my eyes, and he doesn't try to stop them from falling. He kisses them away, one by one, pausing only to kiss my mouth. I've lost most of my leverage, but I'm still rocking myself over him, shallow strokes and grinding pressure on my clit, but the frenzied pace has been broken.

"Ember, love, it's okay--"

"It's not," I babble. My voice catches.

"I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you again. I've got you," he promises.

And these sad parts of my heart are so desperate to believe him.

"I loved you," I whimper.

"I know." Apologies form on his lips again, and I can't.

Shaking my head, I thread my hands through his hair, tilting my hips, trying to drown out the feelings bleeding through my heart with the oblivion of sex, but it's no use. I kiss his hot mouth, and he lets me for a minute, but too soon, he's pulling away.

"I know," he repeats.

My eyes sting. Against his lips, I breathe, "I still love you. I tried so hard not to, but--"

"But we were always meant to be."

"Fuck the gods." They don't know me or my heart.

But my mates do. Storm--he does, damn it all.

"Fuck them," he agrees, and then he's kissing me again, pouring his conviction and his devotion and his fucking love into our bond, and how can I keep fighting it?

Finally giving me room to move again, he wraps me up in his arms. I lift myself off of him and fuck myself back down on his cock, but it's slower now. My futile drive to erase all thought and feeling from my soul with hard, rough sex disappears.

"That's it," he breathes. "That's it, my beautiful girl. My love. My mate."

I let out another sob, but it's drowned out by our kisses.

The pleasure that steals over me this time is deeper and bigger--all-consuming in its intensity. My voice dissolves into a high whine as my body gives itself over to the inevitable, and as the first wave crests, I'm staring straight into his eyes.

"I'm yours," Storm promises, "Forever."

I choke on desire and on the impossible lump in my throat. "But--"

"Forever," he says again, and his hand is on my heart.

It's like he's pushing all of that love into my very soul, and it's true in a way I can't deny or even question. My pussy spasms in ultimate pleasure, but my heart is opening.

Light and air pour in, and so much of the pain I'd been holding onto is carried away on the wind.

" Storm ," I cry out, but his name isn't torture on my lips anymore.

It'll take more than one mate-bonded moment of passion to erase everything that happened between us, but as magic sparks in my fingertips and in my toes, the impossible suddenly seems possible.

His eyes shine, like he can feel my hurt melting away. "Ember--"

We rock together, our movements in perfect sync as my orgasm fades, only to be chased right through me by another one. My mouth is open, my hands threaded through his hair. I close my legs around his body, and there's no leverage, but it doesn't matter.

Ecstasy wells up within him, cascading into my own pleasure, whipped into a tornado that surrounds us and lifts us. His mouth falls open, and his eyes fly wide. His cock kicks inside me, and I swear to the gods themselves, I come again--before I've even finished with my last peak, I'm soaring.

His orgasm hits me like my own. Hot come floods my insides, and I shudder with the pleasure echoing back and forth through our connection, redoubling itself until my vision goes white, and my entire body explodes.

Even as I'm lost to the euphoria of it all, silver light streams through the space between us, tying us together, and it's freedom like I've never known. The empty places within my chest close over and fill in, and I'm floating on him and his touch and the power of releasing so much resentment from my heart.

Only for it to occur to me--

I blink off the haze of pleasure and look down.

No, really--we're floating.