Burning Skies by Caris Roane

things, she would awaken. Then she’d take one horrified look at him, no matter the level of her passion, and drift away from him like a dream he couldn’t recapture no matter how hard he tried.
    Once she left, he would experience a sliding sensation, a blink of unconsciousness like he was folding or being folded. He would reappear in his bed painfully aroused and in need of release. He sure as hell had taken a lot of cold showers over what had been a very long spring and had the appearance of turning into an equally long summer.
    But Havily was here now, in his nowhere bed, and he had another shot at taking their nightly ritual to a more productive level. He was nothing if not a problem solver and he hadn’t been idle in pondering their current conundrum, as in how to keep her with him long enough to consummate the relationship. She obviously desired him, which meant that each time she left without experiencing release, she must have been as frustrated as he was.
    Tonight, though, he had a plan, something he hadn’t tried before. Maybe tonight everything would change.
    He drew a slow deep breath. He slid an arm around her waist very gently to support her. A soft moan followed.
    Her breasts, and God they were beautiful, were almost at eye level, the weight of them heavy in front since she leaned forward. She had large deep-rose areolas, which were as familiar to him now as the hand he used to cup those breasts. He curved his hand around her right breast and withheld a groan but Havily mewled. He drew his hand the length of her breast and lightly rubbed the nipple. Her sweet voice mewled again.
    He wanted to suckle but the times he’d tried, the sensation had been too powerful for her and she’d shied away, awakening fully and disappearing beneath his touch. But he wanted her breast in his mouth. He wanted to suck hard until she was screaming.
    First, though, he had to figure this out, how to do this, to connect physically without waking her, how to give her pleasure without having her fade from his arms.
    God how he wanted that, as though his life depended upon making her happy. The drive he felt toward her burned in his chest and had been burning since he’d first met her.
    He put both hands on her waist, holding her. He throbbed now, hard as granite. He lifted her and very slowly impaled her on his cock. This, miraculously, she would allow. She even arched in his hands and flung her head back, crying out. It always surprised him that she didn’t awaken, one more sign that she needed this as much as he did.
    Come for me, he whispered again within her mind, her sweet honeysuckle scent strafing his nostrils and piercing his brain.
    I can’t. Her voice was a whimper in his head. Yeah, she was frustrated as well.
    If only he could get her under him, he could use his magic and work her into a frenzy. But he’d tried that maneuver more than once, and each time she’d awakened.
    His gaze fell to her throat. His breathing quickened as a growl rattled around in his chest and his fangs emerged. Saliva flooded his mouth. He wanted her beneath him, writhing. He wanted his fangs sunk into her vein and drawing her nectar into his mouth, down his throat. Havily, he whispered again. God, how he wanted her. Could she feel the depth of his longing?
    She rose up and down his column now, her body clenching and unclenching. But as she drew closer to orgasm, he knew what would happen. She would come to consciousness, frightened, bewildered, embarrassed, then in the space of a second disappear, a specter caught in a breeze.
    How to keep her here? He thought he might have a clue and tried it now. Stay with me, he murmured within the depths of her mind. If he spoke aloud, she’d disappear. But he could converse telepathically and keep her with him. Stay with me this time. Let me give you satisfaction.
    I want to, she sent, whimpering all over again.
    Let me take care of you.
    Yes.
    Then sleep, Havily, more deeply now. Sleep.
    Her body