Serpents of Sky and Flame (Merciless Dragons Book 1) by Rebecca F. Kenney

Author:Rebecca F. Kenney [Kenney, Rebecca F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

15

I watch the Princess take the tiny flower gently between her fingertips and admire it. Her yellow hair pours over her shoulder, and her bare back curves as she kneels on the stone. As she lifts her arm and lets the flower go, I glimpse the side of her breast, smooth and round and tempting.

Slowly I bend and collect the garment she discarded. I’m not sure why, nor do I understand the heavy heat in my body, the sweet ache in my heart, the sudden thrill in my belly when my foot cracks a twig and she whirls around.

She is breathtaking when she’s startled. Her eyes flare wide, alert and defiant. Such boldness in one with so little means of defense. I will never forget the courageous look on her face when she tried to save me from the voratrice.

I would have died if not for the enchantress’s trickery, and I couldn’t have stumbled away from the voratrice den fast enough without Serylla’s help. I owe both of them my life, in different ways. I must remember that.

Serylla covers her breasts clumsily with one arm and snatches at the pink scrap of cloth I’m holding. “Give me that.”

Without really thinking, I lift the pink garment above my head, far out of her reach.

Her eyebrows rise. “Really?”

My heart pounds hotter, and my mouth curves in a half-smile I can’t suppress.

“You take human form, and now you act like this?” She gives me a reproachful glare. “Do I have to kick you in the balls?”

I consider risking her wrath. But then she says, “Kyreagan,” desperately, and something inside me comes alive.

My name, from her mouth, in that breathless tone of both pleading and command, is everything I need.

I lower my hand, and she snatches the cloth. She turns her back to me and begins fumbling with the scrap, struggling to tie it in place—but apparently her fingers won’t cooperate. When I step in beside her, I notice that she’s trembling.

All thought leaves my brain, and I become a creature of emotion and instinct. Guided by them, I place both my hands over hers.

Her fingers go still. She lets the knot slip free, lets the pink silk flutter down to the rock. Looks up at me.

My hand slides around her wrist, drawing her fingers toward my chest so she can feel my heart beating, nearly as fast as it did last night. Serylla’s lips part, and her gaze dips to my mouth.

She rises on tiptoe. Tilts her face up. And softly closes her lips over mine.

I don’t know what to do. The sensations coursing through me are immense, overwhelming, and among them are strong currents of grief and guilt. Yet the most important thing in my world seems to be the silky lips touching my mouth, and the lovely body pressed against mine.

She tips her head back slightly. Smiles. “You don’t know how to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“Of course… dragons don’t kiss. This is kissing.” She cups the back of my neck and takes my mouth with hers again, more firmly this time.

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