I slumped on the couch. We had been okay only moments ago. Why was Annie always being ripped from me? My head dropped into my hands again. The couch dipped seconds later.
“You should get rest,” Roark said in a low tone. “We leave before the sun comes out tomorrow.”
“We can’t go now? I want to get it over with.”
“No, we have to take a portal to Arizona. If we leave in the morning, we can get there by nightfall. A perfect time for dragons. Like all Unnaturals they prefer night and it’ll be more probably he’s not home. It’ll make it easier for us to search for the powder if he’s gone.”
“I-I didn’t fight it off.” My voice sounded small. “After throwing my dagger, I froze.”
He said nothing for a while. It wasn’t until tears seeped out that he tilted my head up, forcing me to look at him. “You wouldn’t have been able to. It takes a practiced fighter to take down an older gargoyle. He was winged. It indicates his power. It’s better that you weren’t near him, or he would have taken you both.”
Disappointment stabbed at me. If only Ty had taught me how to fight in hand-to-hand combat…
Focusing on Roark, I asked something I never thought would come out of my mouth. “Will you teach me how to defend myself?” There were crickets as his eyes traced my face. He looked away from me but nodded slowly, I bounded to my feet and demanded, “Now.”
He stood, too, already shaking his head. “You must rest.”
Pressure built in my chest. I was a bundle of stress and leftover adrenaline. I had to do something. I stepped close to Roark and shoved him. He didn’t move an inch.
“Fight me.” I shoved again, using my core this time. It took all my effort, but I made him take a step back. “Fight me, dammit,” I sneered and smacked his chest once more.
The swirl of emotions battled within me, needing some sort of outlet. The magic in my chest expanded and bubbled. Fury boiled under the surface of my skin, itching to escape.
He growled, and his eyes glinted back at me. “Stop. You’re not in the correct mindset. I do not want to hurt you.”
A laugh burst out of me, and even to me, it sounded hysterical. “Hurt me? You’ve hurt me so much already. This will be nothing.” I shoved again.
“No,” Roark bit out forcefully.
My shoulders slumped, and I looked down at my feet. Before I knew what had happened, I crashed into the large plush couch.
I hopped up and charged him, throwing out my fist at the last second. He disappeared, and my arms windmilled. There was a shove on my back, and I stumbled forward.
When I whirled around, he stood behind me, a savage expression on his face. He prowled closer, and I swung at his face, placing all the rage I had in the punch. My fist managed to graze his chin. I gasped, stepping away from him. Staring down at my pulsing hand, I clenched and unclenched it, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’d hit him.
“Do you feel better?” His eyebrow flicked up, unfazed.
My eyes narrowed at the condescending tone, raising the anger to the surface once more. I lunged at him, taking him by surprise. He toppled over to his back with me on top of him, hands wrapped around his throat.
The naked desire reflected in his gaze made my lungs seize and sent an answering rush through my body. I swallowed hard and tried regulating my erratic heart as I released my tight hold on his throat and pushed to my knees.
With my movement, I managed to rub against his shaft. I gasped at the sensation that erupted. It felt so good. A groan fell from my lips, and I froze as sensation traveled through my nerve endings. My body responded to the tingle shooting up my channel, and I thoughtlessly ground down, seeking the heat his thick member coerced.
Throbbing, I undulated again, a moan tearing from my mouth. My breast grew heavier, rasping against my bra with renewed sensitivity. He sat up with me still on top of him, hands wrapping around my waist to keep us connected. His lips found my neck and nibbled. Another gasp ripped from me. I ran my hands up his clothed back and into his hair, tugging my hands through, urging him closer.
Roark bit my neck. The pressure sent a shock to my nerve endings. The delicious sensations running up and down my body, warming me, were like nothing I’d ever felt. I wanted him—no, I craved him. I was mad with desire, and I shook to tear the clothes from his body.
A part of me rationalized that this was too quick. The intensity of my desire was too much. It didn’t make sense to my human brain, but it made sense to my Fae senses. They wanted to claim him, pull him inside me, and wring every last bit of him until he had nothing left to give. I wanted to show him he was mine, and he was stupid ever to lay a finger on anyone else.
I sat up and shucked my shirt to the side in a quick motion and reached down to tug his up, exposing his pale, chiseled stomach. The scars were what I remembered as I greedily ran my hands over the indents of his abs, trying to imprint his flesh to memory.
The jeans between us created friction that sent a delightful shiver down my spine every time I rubbed over the thickness encased within. My memory flashed to the shadowy outline of what it looked like when he’d screwed Sabine. Anger made my motions jerkier, and I grasped him harder, rubbing myself on him like a cat to a post. A groan ripped out of him, turning agonized when I found a rhythm. I ceased to be as instinct took over me.
I leaned down
