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her, and he fingered her roughly, his thumb brushing her clit until she writhed in his arms. He held her close, his free hand going around her, across her chest, fingers finding her nipple and tweaking it hard until she cried out. She was so wet, so ready to come for him, but he didn’t let her.
    Instead he stopped, holding her close until she had calmed down, before guiding his cock into her from behind.
    “Argh,” she moaned as he thrust into her hard in one fluid motion. Tara pressed back against him, wanting him so badly, disappointed when he moved out of her again. One long lunge filled her again, before he placed his hand over her mound and stroked her clit until she could barely breathe.
    Dòmhnall renewed his torture of her breasts; it was all becoming too much for her when he spoke. “This is how we are supposed to be, Tara. You and me, joined. Swear your oath to the dragon lord.”
    “Go to hell,” she breathed, although she knew she was in heaven.
    “Swear to me, Tara. Be mine forever.” His fingers pressed around his cock, stroking her outer lips where they stretched around him, before returning to the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs. She was a mess of emotions: she knew she belonged to him, knew he had power over her, but to swear it, why would he ask her right now, when she was so close to coming? He was being unfair.
    “Swear to me, I am the master of your body, the master of your soul.” His mouth was in her ear, his breath warm, inviting and his hands, oh my, his hands and his cock were moving as one to take away her willpower.
    One long lunge after another, she desperately wanted to come, but just as she was about to crest that wave he eased off. He was right; he owned her. “I swear.”
    And then he gave her the release she craved. His fingers thrumming on her clit, his hands stroking her breasts, sensation overload, leaving her sobbing as she came. Her breathing ragged, a sense of defeat, only taken away when her orgasm hit her, and then she soared as she did when she rode on her dragon’s back.
    Endless, he played her body perfectly, milking every drop of pleasure until she was completely spent, her sex filled with his dragon seed, lying helpless in his arms.
    Yet in this defeat, he whispered in her ear, “And I swear my oath to you, Tara, I will honour you and protect you with my body, with my very soul. We are one.”
    She turned to face him, tears in her eyes. Kissing his cheeks and then his lips, she simply whispered, “Thank you.”
    Tara didn’t know exactly whom she was thanking. Dòmhnall for his words, or the power that had placed them here. All she knew was that they had at last found themselves. The real Tara was lying in the arms of the real Dòmhnall. Not witch and dragon lord, but fated mates, pure and simple.
    Why had it taken them so long to get to this point?
    Outside the sky tore apart, the sound of thunder so loud, the ground shook. But here in his arms she was safe. The world outside couldn’t touch them. Not at this moment.
    But no moment lasts forever.
     

Chapter Sixteen – Dòmhnall
    The thunder ripped the sky apart and with it came a blast of cold air. It was going to rain, he was sure of it. As they lay together in the glow of the fire, a tremor moved the ground beneath them as it rolled across the Earth.
    Beside him, Tara sat up, ashen faced. He placed his hand on her back to soothe her. “It will pass.”
    “No, it won’t,” she said turning to look at him, placing her hand on his cheek and then kissing his lips. “We need to get dressed. Now.”
    “What is it?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure. I only got a glimpse.” She was pulling on her shirt, covering up her luscious breasts, her face pulled into a frown.
    The thunder sounded again, and she had to hold onto the bed to keep her feet under her. It wasn’t helped by the fact that at that very moment her eyes had become distant, not fixed in this world. He knew that look only too