Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

I nstead of answering, he closed the distance between them. The first brush of his lips against hers was gentle, questioning. But when Briar made a soft sound of encouragement, the kiss deepened into something that made her head spin. His hands tangled in her hair as hers slid up to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Heat blazed between them, dragon-hot and all-consuming. Every touch felt charged with magic and meaning, every breath shared between them a promise of more. But beyond the physical attraction—though there was plenty of that, burning bright and fierce—was something deeper, something that made her heart ache with tenderness.

When they finally parted, Falkor rested his forehead against hers. “The breakfast is going to burn,” he murmured, though he made no move to step away.

“Let it,” she whispered, pulling him back to her. His last coherent act was to wave a hand at the stove, extinguishing the flame.

His hand reached up and stroked her hair every so lightly. Briar shuddered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He grasped her biceps tightly and drew her in close.

She gasped as his lips found her neck, kissing softly. His nostrils flared, and a low, rumbly growl escaped his throat.

“Briar…” he whispered into her ear before nibbling on the lobe. “I want you. How I have longed to touch you,” he groaned. Cuddling up to her, he kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder.

“Falkor…” she didn’t know what else to say. No part of her wanted to tell him to stop. Part of her thought she should, but it was a tiny, feeble notion washed away in the molten sea of Falkor’s fiery embrace.

“I love the way you say my name,” he growled. His body melded against her own. She felt the hard, growing bulge of his erection through his jeans.

Briar responded, feeling a growing dampness between her legs. A deep, pulsating tingle shot through her body. She adored his touch, his attentiveness.

A thrill rushed along with a flush of shame as he pulled her shirt off and slipped her pajama bottoms down her legs. She was more exposed to him than she had been to a man in a long time. Not that there weren’t plenty of offers, but Briar had been waiting for someone worthwhile.

“Your body is exquisite,” he mumbled into her flesh. She felt his skin sliding against her own as he sank into a crouch. His hands brushed over the flesh of her inner thighs. Briar cried out when she felt his lips on her.

Briar shuddered, bracing her arms back on the kitchen counter and spreading her knees lewdly. She was past the point of caring. She just wanted to feel his touch all over.

“I want you,” he muttered into her shoulder.

He continued to stroke her wetness while kissing up her leg. She nearly came the moment his lips touched her sex.

She tried to keep her breathing and body steady, but her legs shook as his tongue did all kinds of wonderful things to her.

“Can you move a little faster?” she snapped, punctuating it with a low groan. “I can’t take it anymore.”

He stood and leaned into her. “Do you want it that bad?” he asked, a teasing smile on his face and a dangerous smolder in his eyes.

“Yes, I want you that bad,” she said, though this time, it came out as more of a shaky whisper.

With a growl, his hand grasped the hair near her scalp. Briar gasped as he used the handhold to march her into the living area. He shoved her onto the sofa and then pressed her thighs apart.

His pupils dilated, nostrils flared, and then he buried his face between her legs. Briar’s mouth became an O as he suckled on her swollen lower lips, ran his tongue through her folds, and did it all while letting out a succession of hungry, sexy grunts.

Her hands went to the back of his head, feeling his hair. It was so soft, and what he was doing felt so amazing. She did something she hadn’t been able to do in her life. She gave herself over fully to him.

His big fingers invaded her core, pressing their way inside as his mouth worked her clit. Briar squeezed her eyes shut as fireworks exploded behind her lids. Her high-pitched cry echoed off the cabin walls.

She writhed about on the sofa, a panting, sweating mess. She lifted her head enough to look him in the eye as the waves of climax hit her one after another. His eyes peered up at her while his mouth still worked. She could see the smile in his eyes, a man genuinely happy to see the pleasure he’d caused.

Softly, slowly, he pulled away from her, rearing up to his full height, towering over her. She watched him remove his clothes, and her eyes locked in on his throbbing erection that stood at full attention.

My God .

Briar raised her gaze from his length to his face and then arched her brows. That was all the encouragement he needed. He dropped one knee onto the couch, between her legs, and positioned himself at her opening.

“Do you want this, Briar?” the dragon asked as cock touched her entry.

“Yessss…” Briar hissed, thrusting her hips to try to push him farther inside.

He held back, teasing her, moving his cock up and down her slit, teasing her clit, massaging every inch of the outside of her while the inside yearned for him.

“If you want this, then look at me,” he instructed.

She hadn’t realized that she’d closed her eyes. She opened them and locked them onto his face. His handsome, chiseled face.

Then the image of the dragon came to mind, laying atop Falkor’s human face. It was like seeing both sides of him at once. The man and the dragon.

Both were hers.

“I want you now, Falkor,” she said.

As though saying his name was the push to action, he finally pushed inside her, little by little, stretching her, causing every inch of her to celebrate the feel of this man.

When he was finally fully sheathed, he lay on top of her, his heavy body pinning her to the sofa. She whimpered with urgent need as she lifted her hips, needing more, more, more.

“Yes,” she groaned.

He thrust powerfully, moving with slow, smooth, and even strokes. His leanly muscled hips moved sinuously, slapping against her with audible force. Every time he traveled in and out, in and out, she felt herself slipping toward the precipice of a truly thunderous climax.

His body strained against her own, taut as a bowstring. She let out a scream as the orgasm crashed into her and overwhelmed her. His seed spurt inside of her, warm and invigorating, and fueling her climax to even greater heights.

Then they were clutching at each other, arms and legs entangled. She nuzzled her face into his powerful shoulder and sighed.

He was the right man.. .

Later—much later—they returned to the kitchen to find the French toast cold and forgotten. But neither of them cared. They had found something far sweeter, far more nourishing: the promise of healing, of joy, of a future where love wasn’t weakness but the greatest strength of all.

Watching Falkor move around the kitchen to make fresh coffee, his movements loose and relaxed, his smile coming easier, Briar felt her heart swell. She wouldn’t name this feeling yet—it was too new, too precious. But she knew with the same certainty that guided her magic that what was growing between them was real and rare and worth protecting.

He caught her watching him and smiled—that genuine, unguarded smile that made her breath catch. “What are you thinking about, little witch?”

“Just that I like seeing you happy,” she answered honestly. “It suits you.”

“You suit me,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms. “Even with your chaotic Christmas spirit and your tendency to turn perfectly good trees into dancing hazards.”

She laughed against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her. The storm would return. Morganna’s spirit still lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike. But in this moment, safe in Falkor’s embrace, Briar knew they would face it together. And together, they would win.

Because love, real love, was the most powerful magic of all. And finally, after centuries of darkness, Falkor was learning to believe in it again—one kiss, one laugh, one shared moment at a time.