Page 25 of Kiss of Embers
Overhead, a cloud drifted past the moon, allowing more light to spill over the jungle. Through the tent’s opening, Struan and Finn came into view. From what little I could see, their tent was far more luxurious than mine. Filigree lanterns hung from the ceiling, and an ornate carpet spread over the floor. Finn leaned a hip on a large, dark table, his posture relaxed. Struan stood in front of him with his back to me, his body angled just enough to let me see Finn’s troubled expression.
Why would I need saving? Were they worried about me coming down with moon sickness, or was there a new threat on the horizon? Was this yet another power play?
Clinging to the shadows, I settled down to find out.
Chapter
Eight
FINN
Struan shoved a hand through his hair, mussing the black strands. He held his palm on the back of his neck as he continued speaking of Queen Isolde. “Don’t get me wrong, I want us to win the elixir. I just didn’t anticipate finding our female in the process.”
“Mmm,” I murmured, which was the best I could do when he looked as good as he did. His gray T-shirt fit him like a glove, the sleeves tight around his biceps. The hiking pants he’d insisted on buying for the trip were just as tight. The lightweight fabric molded to his groin, doing nothing to hide the impressive bulge between his legs.
“It’s complicated, you ken?”
Not really. My desire for Struan was the most uncomplicated thing in my life. I’d met him at thirty-five years old—a babe by dragon standards. And in each moment of the eighty years since, I’d desired him. Sometimes, it was damn inconvenient.
A faint breeze drifted through the gap in the tent’s opening. Probably, I should have closed it when Struan and I returned from speaking to Zara. But we’d made camp a decent distance away from the rest of the competitors. No one would bother us.
“…because I’d like to focus on making her realize—” Struan made an irritated noise. “Are you even listening right now?”
I lifted my gaze from his chest. “Hmm?”
His expression darkened. “I feel like you’re not taking this seriously.”
“You’re wrong.” I slid off the table, then leaned both hips against the edge. “I’m very serious about winning the elixir and claiming Zara. But we can’t do either of those things right this second. So I’ll use my energy for other pursuits.” I crooked a finger at him. “Now, come here.”
Struan’s demeanor changed in an instant. His disgruntled expression fled, replaced with a raw longing I knew all too well.
His lips parted, and he dragged in a ragged breath.
I let my fangs descend, and I made sure to smile wide enough to show them. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing the distance between us. He grunted when I stopped him with a flat palm on his chest, and he licked his lips as he stared at my mouth. “Finn…” he breathed, his blue eyes so vulnerable—soearnest—it was hard to believe he was real.
But he was. And he was perfect.
His heart raced under my hand. I knew if I slid it lower, I’d find him painfully hard. But he’d like it, so I did the opposite, smoothing it up to his jaw and gripping his chin.
“Is that what you want?” I asked. “To fuck?”
“Aye,” he rasped, shivering. The longing in his eyes turned his irises a deeper blue. “Please, Finn, don’t make me beg.”
I smiled. The breeze picked up, fluttering the flaps of the tent’s opening. Zara’s scent hit me, and I just stopped myself from tensing. A split second after I scented her, Struan’s eyes widened. Before he could say anything, I smashed my mouth to his.
He opened under me, groaning loudly as I thrust my tongue deep. I kept a grip on his jaw, holding him steady while I plundered his mouth. After a minute, I slid my lips to his ear.
“We have an observer,” I said in Gaelic.
Struan nodded his understanding.
“I say we let her stay where she is.”
He pulled back, his lips shiny and swollen from my kiss. He replied in the same language. “You want to…let her watch?”
“Aye.” I ran my palm down his chest to his cock. As predicted, he was hard as stone, and he closed his eyes as I gripped him through his pants. “Apparently, she wants a show. Why don’t you be a good boy and give her one?”