The Dragon's Match

XXVII

"It is," he agreed, his voice a quiet hush. "It has been an unknown reprieve for some time... when the constant demands of either a beastkeeper or a needy inhabitant become too much, the dragon sometimes chooses to retreat to the grove."

"The dragon?" she enquired archly.

A rueful smile tugged his lips and he glanced at her askance. "Me, then. Is it too hard to believe that I am susceptible to the expectations and burdens of those around me?"

She recalled then all his endeavours to ensure the safeguarding of a people that were repressed- his people. His persistence at finding a haven for them at Ravensfield, his protection and continuous support of the inhabitants within his holding, the ledgers that revealed his efforts to ensure all of those under his care were well-maintained and comfortable...

He was an astute and charismatic leader, his cavalier demeanour a clever ruse to keep his motives closely hidden from those that would take advantage of him and his kind. Her heart panged, knowing full well the burden that he harboured.

"No," she murmured as they drew to a halt beneath the boughs of the magnificent tree, "it is not." A small gasp escaped her when the branches above elongated into graceful vines, curling and interlocking to form an intricate web that descended about them until they were cocooned within a spacious bower. Soft, lightly coloured blossoms fell from the leaves to settle on the grass at their feet.

Lillian turned to Aëghan, a wry smile on her lips, and noted that he was settling between two large protruding roots of the tree, his back against the trunk. Uncaring of his nudity, he reclined almost indolently, one leg cocked to afford his forearm a suitable rest while he studied her with a familiar assuredness.

"Was this-" she gestured to the leafy shroud surrounding them- "is this your doing?"

He raised a brow at her. "Lillian, come here."

Her breath hitched, her toes curling into the soft grass. The anticipation had culminated to this moment- finally- and she had asked to lead, yet now she felt entirely clueless as to how. Sensing the cause of her hesitation, Aëghan's expression softened and he said, with quiet temerity, "You are in control, Lillian, of everything- of me, of how far you wish to take this tonight. We will only proceed for as long as you desire it, no longer- you have my word."

She wondered distantly if he had allowed anyone but her to witness the honourable male that he was, but her hands had moved to the clasp at her shoulder after he had spoken before she could think further of the boldness of her actions, working the two ends of fabric until they fluttered loosely before moving to the other shoulder. Lillian thought she heard his sharp intake of breath, but it was too quiet to discern anything other than the rampant beat of her heart as she tugged the loose material over her breasts, shimmying it off her waist and hips to pool in folds of fabric around her ankles.

Naked before him other than for the painted markings that trailed over her bare arms, shoulders and chest, she felt more than ever the manner in which her fingers began their irksome tremors. It was not that she was ashamed or shy; rather it was the acute awareness that her scars were on full display, webbed across the skin on the left side of her body. Having Aëghan aware of them didn't bother her- it was her own awareness of them that caused the all-too familiar flickers of panic to prickle through her.

When she raised her gaze to his, he was frowning- his jaw hard and unrelenting as he met her eyes. Wordlessly, he held out a hand to her and waited.

She slid her fingers into his and took a few steps forward, only then did he speak again, "I am enamoured by everything that you are, and honoured beyond words that you have deemed me worthy to share your body with." His eyes turned molten and heated as he assisted her, guiding her between his legs and unto her knees between them. "When I tell you that it is by sheer force alone that I am holding myself back from taking you in my arms and worshipping every inch of you, it is not my intention to frighten you, but to make you aware of how utterly desirable you are to me." He tenderly placed her hand upon his chest, his muscles and flesh flexing beneath her fingers, directly over the mark she had placed there earlier. "You have the lead, Lillian," he murmured, his voice imbued with the heaviness of his desire, "my body is yours to command. Guide me, tell me, use me- I am yours."