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toward Black Diamond as he stuffed the fantasy beneath a pile of mental debris. He wanted it buried, gone before he went nuclear. All of that forced abstinence made him needy. Just the thought of her beneath him, of touching all that warm, soft skin?
Distracting as hell.
Bastian shook his head. Him. Distracted. That was a first. Not a particularly good one, either.
Thank God, Rikar wasn’t around to witness his slide from cool commander to overheated lust boy. His friend would razz him about it, and Bastian had already given him enough ammunition for one night. Man, he was in for a roasting when he got back to the lair. He’d lost his calm, cool, and collected out there when Myst had sprinted into the open.
Rikar might not think less of him for losing his cool. It happened to the best of them. But that didn’t mean the SOB would keep his trap shut. His first in command liked to tease too much to ever miss an opportunity. Bastian could see it already: Rikar gathering the other warriors around—like a bunch of pain-in-the-ass Boy Scouts around a campfire—hitting full story mode as he regaled them with the details.
A small price to pay, because…Jesus. He’d almost lost her. Had Rikar reacted one second later, Myst would be…
Dead.
Incinerated.
An ash pile.
The thought made his stomach roll. Which pissed him off. No way he should care so much. The attraction he felt for Myst was dangerous, not within normal boundaries for his kind. Then again, what did he know? None of the males he knew hooked up with a female for any length of time. Even if they had, none talked about it. Sure, some shot the shit about one-nighters—the fuckfests that overloaded them with pleasure—but even that kind of talk didn’t happen often.
Thank God.
The last thing he needed was constant talk of sex. He thought about it often enough as it was, waking up hard and wanting most evenings. The problem? He hardly ever indulged. Couldn’t bring himself to hunt females purely for release, like the others. Okay, so no one got hurt. The females were always willing and the energy exchange pleasurable, but all the deception didn’t feel right.
Feeling that way was stupid.
He couldn’t change what he was and yet, he yearned for more. Craved companionship without the remorse that always came after he took what he needed; after he’d fed and left the female sated on tangled sheets, all without a word or backward glance.
Bastian closed his eyes, let himself glide a moment, enjoying the rush of cold air against his scales. He wanted more from life, just…more. If only for a little while. Even if it couldn’t last.
Myst’s car heavy in his talons, he increased his wing speed, flying through dark skies and pine-scented air. Pinpoint stars winked, then hid behind wispy clouds, taunting him with the promise of moonlight. But light wasn’t something he needed. Bastian knew the way home by heart. He recognized the forest below: the sway of crooked tree branches, the gradual roll of hills and higher altitude as he moved toward the mountains.
So quiet.
So peaceful.
So fucking ridiculous.
Normally, he loved flying on a night like tonight, with nothing but the chilly autumn air and black skies to keep him company. But fast was the only thing he wanted now. Not that the Razorbacks would follow. He was well cloaked, wrapped in a thick spell that kept both him and the car he carried from view. Still, he felt close to bursting, the pleasant hum beneath his scales pushing toward pain.
The reason? Myst.
He was trying to ignore her, but it wasn’t going well.
Her energy and scent drove him crazy. He was hooked in, could feel the power and abundance that was all her. Combine that with a boatload of lust and he couldn’t stop remembering how good she tasted. How well she fit against him. How much he wanted to touch her soft skin again. Sex with her would be amazing. Life altering. A hot, sweaty, gorgeously intense mating.
Jesus. He was in serious
Distracting as hell.
Bastian shook his head. Him. Distracted. That was a first. Not a particularly good one, either.
Thank God, Rikar wasn’t around to witness his slide from cool commander to overheated lust boy. His friend would razz him about it, and Bastian had already given him enough ammunition for one night. Man, he was in for a roasting when he got back to the lair. He’d lost his calm, cool, and collected out there when Myst had sprinted into the open.
Rikar might not think less of him for losing his cool. It happened to the best of them. But that didn’t mean the SOB would keep his trap shut. His first in command liked to tease too much to ever miss an opportunity. Bastian could see it already: Rikar gathering the other warriors around—like a bunch of pain-in-the-ass Boy Scouts around a campfire—hitting full story mode as he regaled them with the details.
A small price to pay, because…Jesus. He’d almost lost her. Had Rikar reacted one second later, Myst would be…
Dead.
Incinerated.
An ash pile.
The thought made his stomach roll. Which pissed him off. No way he should care so much. The attraction he felt for Myst was dangerous, not within normal boundaries for his kind. Then again, what did he know? None of the males he knew hooked up with a female for any length of time. Even if they had, none talked about it. Sure, some shot the shit about one-nighters—the fuckfests that overloaded them with pleasure—but even that kind of talk didn’t happen often.
Thank God.
The last thing he needed was constant talk of sex. He thought about it often enough as it was, waking up hard and wanting most evenings. The problem? He hardly ever indulged. Couldn’t bring himself to hunt females purely for release, like the others. Okay, so no one got hurt. The females were always willing and the energy exchange pleasurable, but all the deception didn’t feel right.
Feeling that way was stupid.
He couldn’t change what he was and yet, he yearned for more. Craved companionship without the remorse that always came after he took what he needed; after he’d fed and left the female sated on tangled sheets, all without a word or backward glance.
Bastian closed his eyes, let himself glide a moment, enjoying the rush of cold air against his scales. He wanted more from life, just…more. If only for a little while. Even if it couldn’t last.
Myst’s car heavy in his talons, he increased his wing speed, flying through dark skies and pine-scented air. Pinpoint stars winked, then hid behind wispy clouds, taunting him with the promise of moonlight. But light wasn’t something he needed. Bastian knew the way home by heart. He recognized the forest below: the sway of crooked tree branches, the gradual roll of hills and higher altitude as he moved toward the mountains.
So quiet.
So peaceful.
So fucking ridiculous.
Normally, he loved flying on a night like tonight, with nothing but the chilly autumn air and black skies to keep him company. But fast was the only thing he wanted now. Not that the Razorbacks would follow. He was well cloaked, wrapped in a thick spell that kept both him and the car he carried from view. Still, he felt close to bursting, the pleasant hum beneath his scales pushing toward pain.
The reason? Myst.
He was trying to ignore her, but it wasn’t going well.
Her energy and scent drove him crazy. He was hooked in, could feel the power and abundance that was all her. Combine that with a boatload of lust and he couldn’t stop remembering how good she tasted. How well she fit against him. How much he wanted to touch her soft skin again. Sex with her would be amazing. Life altering. A hot, sweaty, gorgeously intense mating.
Jesus. He was in serious
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