Up In Smoke (7 page)

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Authors: Katie MacAlister

BOOK: Up In Smoke
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Gabriel looked at me as if I had suddenly turned into a frog in his arms, his silver eyes so beautiful, I wanted to dive into their mercurial depths.
“It's just that we've been apart for so long. I have so much to tell you, so much I want to ask you. How have you been? Where have you been? How are Maata and Tipene, and all the other silver dragons? Things like that.” I put my hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into the caress. “I appreciate more than I can say how much you want to physically join, but Gabriel, I want so much more than to just make love to you. I want to be with you. I want to know what you're thinking, what you've done while I was gone, and I want to tell you about the things that happened to me. Couldn't we have just a smidgen of conversation before things get too carried away?”
“No,” Gabriel said simply, and dropped me onto the bed.
I looked up the long length of his body as he silently pulled off his clothing. Gabriel was tall, a foot and then some more than my five foot nothing, with long, muscled legs, a chest that had just enough hair on it to make it sexy without being hirsute, and shoulders broad enough to make me feel very feminine in comparison. I looked at all that and threw conversation to the wind. “OK,” I said as I held my arms open.
To my utter surprise, he didn't immediately pounce on me.
“What's wrong?” I asked, confused.
He glanced down at my body lying supine before him.
“If it's about the outfit, that was Magoth's choice, not mine. I had nothing to do with it—”
“No,” he interrupted, his gaze molten as it crawled its way up my mostly exposed skin. I did a rather clumsy shimmy to rid myself of the upper part of the outfit, tossing it to a nearby chair with a come-hither look that could probably have steamed a carpet. “It's not that, although I have to admit that Magoth's taste in clothing is . . .”
“Horrendous?” I said as Gabriel's sentence petered off. “Appallingly hideous? Utterly and completely inappropriate?”
“Exceptionally fine,” Gabriel said, his fingers giving little spasmodic jerks as he stood naked—and aroused—next to the bed, watching me.
“We'll discuss that point later. What I'd like to know now is why you aren't, at this very moment, pleasuring me like I've never been pleasured before.” A thought occurred to me as the memory of a similar experience came to mind. “You're not still worked up about the fact that we never seem to get time to indulge in foreplay, are you? Because I told you the last time this came up”—I eyed his penis, which bobbed merrily at me—“that it really isn't an issue.”
A muscle in his jaw worked. “I talked to my mother about you. She agreed that this lack of self-control I exhibit around you is not fair to you.”
I sat up, glaring at him. “You talked to your
mother
about our sex life?”
An odd sort of wary look crossed his face. “She sensed something profound had changed my life. I told her about you. She was very pleased that you are my mate, and looks forward to meeting you. Do you have an issue with my mother? You would like her, Mayling. She is not at all like Drake's mother—she would never try to have you killed.”
Startled, I got off the bed and marched around it to poke him on his chest. “That's not the point. What is the point is . . . Drake's mom tried to have Aisling killed?”
Gabriel's brows pulled together, his hands on his hips. “Little bird, now is not the time to discuss Aisling and Drake. You have been separated from me for six weeks. I must rejoin with you. It is the way of the dragons.”
“I'm not the one who brought up the subject of his mother,” I said, pointing at the bed. “I was laid out there like a stuffed turkey, but all you seem to want to do is talk.”
We both looked down at his penis.
“It's not that easy,” he answered seriously. “There is nothing more I wish to do at this moment than fulfill each and every one of those intriguing fantasies you have about me. The one involving taking you while on the back of a horse might be a little difficult, but with some practice, I think it would be possible.”
“And that's another thing—why can you read my smutty thoughts about you, but I can't read your mind?”
“I told you before,” he answered, taking the hand I was using to poke him repeatedly in the chest. His fingers stroked mine, lighting my fingernails on fire. “It is a trait I inherited from my mother. I do not know if you can do the same, although I suspect it's possible.”
“Let's get back to that point—you asked your
mom
for sex advice?” I had a hard time getting past that point. I pulled my hand from his, spreading my fingers through the hair on his chest. “Gabriel, I know I'm inexperienced, but don't you think we could have discussed what it was that I'm not doing right before you had to consult your mother?”
“You are not doing anything wrong, Mayling. I am the problem, and it is that for which I sought advice from my mother. She is a shaman of much renown. Even if she was not the mate of a dragon, I would consult her, for she knows much of our ways.”
“Well, I may not be the most knowledgeable of people when it concerns dragons, but I do know that from where I stand . . . sit . . . lie down . . . there's nothing you need to change. Except maybe this proclivity to stand around staring at me as if I'm a chunk of tenderloin and you're a hungry wolf. More action and less talk, wyvern,” I said, kicking off of the loathsome bit of material that was all that remained of my ceremonial outfit. I slid my hands up Gabriel's sides and around to the lovely terrain of his back.
He stiffened, sucking in a good quarter of the air in the room. “My mother told me that I was being selfish in thinking only of my own needs, and that even the most accommodating of women need time and attention to achieve full satisfaction.”
I bit his shoulder. “Have I looked unsatisfied with you? Other than this moment, that is?”
“No,” he said slowly, his eyes molten with desire. I licked the spot I had bitten. “But you are petite in stature, and dragon matings are not always easy.”
I decided that words just weren't going to do the job, leaving actions my only choice. I tipped my head and bit gently on the little brown nub of a nipple peeking through his soft chest hair.
“She also said . . .” Gabriel groaned deep in his chest as I swirled my tongue over his nipple. His hands were on my shoulders now, fingers digging into my flesh, his eyes screwed up tight as he made a face that expressed both rapture and exquisite pain. “She said that my inability to retain control around you could be dangerous and risky, that you see me as a man, and I must go carefully before you see my true depths. I am trying to do so, little bird, but I begin to think it is impossible. You are too much a part of me now.”
I stopped tormenting his nipple and looked up, rocked to the bottom of my soul with what he had said.
“You're stopping?” he asked, opening his eyes in surprise.
I put both hands on his cheeks, searching his face for signs of anything that hinted of an untruth. There was nothing, much as I expected. Gabriel might be many things, but he had never lied to me. “Did you mean that?” I asked.
“Mean what?”
“That you can't control yourself around me because I'm so much a part of you? You meant that?”
He picked me up, carrying me over to the bed, spinning me around so I was astride his thighs as he sat. “I wish it was different. I wish I had the ability to retain my control when I'm with you, but I am obviously lacking in character.”
“Oh, Gabriel,” I said, my heart melting at the look shining from his eyes. “No one has ever said anything so beautiful to me.”
“Beautiful?” His dimples flashed to life for a moment as he shook his head. “I have never met a woman like you, May.”
“A doppelganger, you mean?” I asked, sliding my hands up his arms.
“No. A woman who finds my lack of self-control an attribute rather than a flaw.”
“It means I really matter to you,” I said, kissing the corners of his mouth. “So much so that you can't stop yourself from showing your inner dragon when we make love.”
“You are my mate, my life. You are bound to me. You do more than matter, little bird—you are my reason for existence.”
“That,” I said, pushing him backwards onto the bed, “is not the least bit true, and we both know it. However, due to the fact that you are the sexiest dragon I've ever met, and I'm probably going to expire if you don't make love to me in the next ten seconds, I'm willing to let it go for now.”
“My mother said,” he started to say, but I kissed him to a stop.
“I love you,” I said, the words tumbling out unexpectedly.
Gabriel's eyes opened wide. I froze for a second, unsure of what to do or say, but that dilemma ended quickly when he lifted me slightly and shifted me forward, impaling me with a swift upward thrust of his hips. “Foreplay later,” he growled, the cords in his neck standing out as his eyes shut for a moment in ecstasy.
The intrusion into my body was fast and hard, but not unanticipated, making me moan with pleasure as he pierced parts that had been too long without him. I leaned forward to kiss him, his hands hard on my hips, urging me to a faster rhythm.
“I want all of you, Gabriel.”
His eyes opened to flash with quicksilver brightness, his gaze hot enough to scorch. But his dragon fire came from his mouth as he pulled me down, taking my breast in his mouth, bathing it with fire that danced down my skin until it covered us both. I gasped as he pistoned upward even harder, deeper than he had been before, the sensation of his mouth on my other breast almost pushing me over the edge of sanity. I gripped him hard with my knees, watching with amazement as the taut, brown flesh between my thighs turned iridescent, forming into white scales that rippled upward into a beautiful silver that was almost as bright as Gabriel's eyes. The body beneath me and inside me thickened, lengthening and changing in ways that were both wholly foreign and yet somehow familiar. The hands that gripped my breasts changed as well, the long, brown fingers changing to silver, tipped with curved claws the color of blood.
Part of my brain shrieked to me that it was wrong, that the man I was riding was no man—he was a beast—but my heart knew the truth. The tension inside me built until I flung back my head, arching my back as I was locked in an orgasm, the muscles embracing Gabriel tightening with an ecstasy that was almost painful. Gabriel thrust upward at the same time he roared his pleasure, a primal, terrifying sound that echoed in the room and in my soul. There was a word in that roar, one word: my name. The fire leaped between us, back and forth until there was no ending and no beginning. It just was—and so were we. I knew with every atom of my being, every infinitesimal part that combined to make me, that Gabriel and I were one. Nothing could ever change that—no demon lord with delusions of grandeur, no authority in this world or any other, existed that could take me from him. Gabriel had somehow become an integral part of me, and that thought shook me to my core.
“Mayling!”
I slid off him, collapsing onto my stomach, the blanket beneath me cool on my fevered flesh.
“Little bird, did I hurt you?”
The hand that grasped my shoulder was human again, the fingers long and sensitive. I laid my cheek on the bed, clutching the blanket as my body shook with the aftereffects of both Gabriel's attentions and my own realization.
I was me, May, created wholly formed, and independent of all, even those to whom I was bound. Even when I had accepted my role as Gabriel's mate, when I had agreed that we were fated to be together, it never occurred to me that he would become necessary to the very act of living.
I had just survived a six-week separation from him. And yet I knew at that moment, knew without a shred of doubt, that quite simply I could not exist without him. It was a terrifying realization, one that left me feeling powerless and angry.
The hand on my shoulder slid away. “Did I frighten you?” Gabriel asked, his voice quieter, filled with emotion.
I turned my head to look at him. “Yes,” I answered.
Pain was visible in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I would not frighten you for the world, but I cannot control the shifting—”
“No,” I interrupted, sitting up. “It wasn't that. You meant it, didn't you?”
He was silent for a moment, no doubt reading my thoughts. “Yes, I meant it. You are life to me, May.”
“But you told me you were born in the seventeen hundreds. How could you live for three hundred years without me?”
He examined my face for a moment before leaning forward, his kiss so sweet it made me want to melt. “Before you, I merely existed. Now I will truly begin to live.”
Chapter Five

W
eh-hell, look what the cat dragged in.”
I entered the dining room, determined to keep my face placid despite the fact that everyone in the house had probably heard Gabriel and me the night before. “Good morning.”
Jim, demon in Newfoundland dog form, looked up from where it lay on the floor with a copy of a Paris newspaper, cocking one furry eyebrow at me as it examined me from toes to nose. “Wow. I would have thought you'd at least be walking funny or something after all that boink—”
“Jim!” Aisling snapped, grabbing up a magazine and leaning over to whap the demon. She gasped instead, dropping the magazine and grabbing at her belly. Instantly, Drake, who was seated at the other end of the table, was at her side, kneeling next to her.

Kincsem,
are you all right?”

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