Free Dragon Fate by Elsa Jade

tongues of flame. The dusky flush of blood suffusing her skin was like night shadows sweeping across the desert, calling him to fly.
    But not without her.
    He stared at her avidly, watching for every flicker across her face, more vital to him than the invisible currents of air under his wings. He felt the hidden muscles in her core tense in preparation, and he redoubled his beats.
    Her eyes flashed open and she braced herself on his shoulders as her body came up off the pillows with a scream like a shattering diamond.
    He caught her, held her close, and pumped hard into the apex of her thighs.
    She clamped her legs around his hips and screamed again, low and growling this time.
    The dragon roared back as he came with a ferocity that seemed to drain him of ichor, breath, and bone itself.
    He managed to hold himself and her upright for another heartbeat with only the strength of his pride, and then he fell.
    Luckily, the bed was really soft.
    And so was she. She gathered him close, as if his weight wasn’t a problem, and her sighing breath tickled across his throat.
    It couldn’t last, he knew. She was too prickly by half, and her enemies and secrets were a bane to dragonkin.
    And he was a dragon who’d never bothered to keep a treasure.
    The pleasure and release binding them for this moment was just an illusion and could never be anything more.

Chapter 8
    Anjali showered in the luxe slate and glass bathroom. The pebbled floor massaged her feet, and the multiple shower heads sent steamy water raining down on her like a fantasy summer storm.
    But all the water in the world couldn’t rinse away the thoughts of what she’d done.
    Giving her body to a dragon.
    That had to be as verboten as selling her soul to a warlock.
    Maybe worse. Souls were cheap in Vegas, but bodies had a price tag.
    There was no point in thinking she could scrub him off. The body wash had the mineral-rich, rain-on-the-desert scent she’d forever associate with Torch Dorado. She’d have to move to the Sahara to escape it.
    She suspected she’d have to go farther than that to escape him.
    He’d been reluctant to let her up, one muscled leg thrown over hers, his head propped on her shoulder. Luckily his phone had pinged and when he’d rolled half off the bed to rummage in his jeans, she’d slipped away.
    It took everything in her power to stop herself from slapping his bare ass, bent over the edge of the bed.
    She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. It was just that Ashcraft invading her dreams had freaked her out so badly, a dragon invading her pussy had seemed like a good idea in comparison.
    She skimmed one soapy hand over her mound, and her clit throbbed at the remembered passion.
    Okay, it had been a very good idea.
    But not to be repeated. She’d never been the sort to deny herself, and while she’d enjoyed the sample—hoo boy, how she’d enjoyed—she couldn’t afford the whole. He just wasn’t for her, that bad-boy smirk no disguise for his fierce need to defend his clan at all costs. There was no room for a problem child like her in his life.
    She was going to help him defeat Ashcraft, free Esme and her uncle of any alchemical influence, and make peace with her friends. That seemed like she’d bitten off entirely enough for now.
    And if she rather wished he’d bite her again…
    Well, a girl couldn’t always get what she wanted. She’d learned that a long time ago.
    She rinsed quickly, got out and dried in one of the exceedingly plush towels that still had that extra cushy pile, like they’d seen less use than the bed, and dressed in the knit leggings and matching hooded sweater she’d gotten from the boutique. The bright jewel tones felt strong and alive.
    She thought that might come in handy today.
    Armored in her pretty clothes, she stepped out into Torch’s aerie.
    The sun had risen higher, bathing the view in changing light. Since they faced the empty mountains, she could almost imagine they were alone, with