Dark Legacy

“You’re talking as if you believe he’s still alive.”

He shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. I had thought him dead, but when I touched those ashes, I didn’t feel anything. A master vampire would have left behind something of himself, some taint I would have felt as the wind took him. On some level, I registered that but didn’t let the significance sink in. Like you, I wanted him dead. The loss of three splinters and that small piece of his heart diminished his power drastically. I don’t know how long, if ever, it would take to recover from something like that. In any case, this will be our home, if you approve. It borders Tariq’s property, and we’d just expand the safeguards. That allows the children and Genevieve to safely go from Tariq’s to Maksim’s and now this property. They could fly their dragons. So could you.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him, suddenly suspicious. “My dragon?”

His smile was back, that beautiful curve to his lower lip. “You have to have your own dragon, sívamet.”

Excitement sent adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Where?” she demanded.

He caught her hand and tugged, leading her around the side of the house to the large courtyard. There was an entertainment patio, and a play yard for children. Sitting to one side of the play yard were two dragons made of stone. One was large and golden with emerald eyes.

Her hand went to her throat and she stopped moving, went completely still, her lungs fighting for air. He had done this. For her. Given her a golden dragon because she’d said she wanted to fly a dragon. God. Dragomir. Her man. “I don’t think you’re real,” she whispered. She turned her head to look at him. “I don’t. You can’t be real, honey. Who does this?”

His answer was not in words. He bunched her hair in his fist, yanked her head back so that there was a bite of pain in her scalp and kissed her. Hard. His tongue warred with hers. His teeth bit down on her lower lip, tugged, and then his tongue soothed that bite. “I’m real, Emeline. Very real.”

She laughed when she really needed to cry, joyful tears burning behind her eyes. Her beautiful man. He caught her hand and tugged until both were practically running toward the golden dragon. When they got close, she saw the second one. This was purple, a soft lavender, and was small. She turned and flung her arms around his neck. “You made her one, too.”

“Yes.” His mouth was raining kisses all over her upturned face.

There was heat. Fire. Hot molasses in her veins. She nipped his chin and kissed her way down his chest, her hands at the waistband of his trousers.

“Where is your dragon?” She had his trousers open and his cock out. She let out her breath as she cupped his heavy sac. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I am the dragon, Emeline,” he said and put his hand on her shoulders, exerting pressure so that she knelt in the thick grass. He waved his hand, and she didn’t have a stitch on. “I prefer you naked when your mouth is on my cock. I love watching you. Looking at your body. Seeing your mouth stretched over me and your eyes on mine. That gives me more pleasure than you can imagine.”

She knew it did. She was in his mind when she licked up his shaft and took him deep. She was in his mind when his body moved in hers. Fast. Slow. It didn’t matter. It all gave him pleasure.

Whether Vadim was alive didn’t matter. Not then. Not when she was with her man, taking the control, watching the helpless passion carve lines of pure sensuality into his scarred face. Not when desire darkened the gold of his eyes to liquid and his hand gripped her hair and his hips moved so carefully into her. Dragomir was hers. She had everything with him. Everything. It wasn’t the home he’d given her, or the dragon, or even the acceptance of the Carpathian people that he’d asked for her and their child. It was Dragomir. She had him, and she knew that would always be enough.