Lord Dragon's Conquest by Sharon Ashwood

finishing with a final, lingering kiss.

Chapter Six
    They fell asleep entwined. Keltie awoke twice that night in Larkan’s arms, twice more losing her sanity in his embrace. It was as if she couldn’t take her hands from his skin, or his from hers, and she could think of no good reason why they should even try. But the third time she woke, he was gone from the nest of furs. Keltie rolled over, blinking sleepily and groaning at her delicious soreness.
    Larkan, clad only in loose-fitting pants, was pouring something from a metal pitcher into a cup. The sloshing sound reminded Keltie that she was thirsty. As if he heard her thoughts, Larkan padded across the floor, handing her the clay cup. His hand lingered over hers as she took it, his green eyes soft and dark with heat. Keltie felt a flush rising over her entire body, that one look awakening fresh desire.
    “Good morning,” he said.
    She looked away, overwhelmed, and took a long gulp of the cool drink. She nearly choked. It was fizzy, sweet and bitter at once. She swallowed down the mouthful, deciding the taste wasn’t bad although it was definitely not what she wanted first thing in the morning. “What is this?”
    He chuckled at her expression. “Mead. A drink made from fermented honey.”
    Which meant it had alcohol in it. She could already feel it rushing to her head. Or maybe that was just Larkan’s effect on her. She fingered the rough cup, not sure where to look or what to say. He wasn’t the first man she’d ever slept with, but he was the first who mattered. She wanted to get these next few moments right, to be sure she didn’t spoil things. She set the cup aside.
    Larkan watched her every movement, his expression grave. “If it was up to me, I would leave you alone to gather your thoughts, but there is no time. I have been out already, and the den is in an uproar. The queen has declared that the festival is about to begin.”
    Keltie looked up sharply. At some point during the night, Larkan had explained the festival to her. She didn’t remember every detail, but she’d retained enough to know that she didn’t want to be around while it happened.
    Larkan held her gaze. “The last moments before the festival starts will be your best chance to escape. You will be able to make your way through the den and out onto the mountainside. Then run for all you are worth. When you reach your people, keep your professor and his friends from ever coming back.”
    Keltie felt a sudden wash of shame. If she had listened to Larkan and had left the cave painting alone to begin with...but that was an impossible train of thought. There was no way she could have guessed that particular cave was on the doorstep of a dragon colony. Still her blood froze when she thought of the havoc that would ensue if Switzer’s ambitions collided with the dragons’ lives. “I’ll stop him. Somehow.”
    Larkan nodded. “Good. I want you safe.”
    “But what about...” she began, but snapped her mouth closed. Then she shut her eyes, unable to look Larkan in the face just then. Don’t embarrass yourself.
    He kissed her eyelids, and she barely felt the light brush of his mouth. “I will find you. Somehow, I will know where you are.”
    Keltie opened her eyes. “Do you mean that?”
    He took her face in both his hands. “Do you think I would forget you so easily?”
    “I’m not one of you.”
    He gave her a sly smile. “Are you certain of that? I would like you to be.”
    And he clearly meant it, but Keltie wondered what would happen once she was gone and a little time had passed. “We don’t always get what we want.”
    “Perhaps,” Larkan said softly. “But what I want most is for you to make it out of here alive. Nothing else matters if that doesn’t happen first.”
    * * *
    Larkan had fed her a meal of dried meat and the last of the season’s blackberries, washed down with icy spring water. It was simple fare, but she’d felt a hundred times stronger after she’d