It was an open-plan space with a small sitting area by a sunken fire pit and an enormous bed draped in blankets of faux fur. One enormous window overlooked a cliff with the forest below, and the entire space was lit with a soft golden light that made Morgan think of oil lamps and candles.
The place was impressive, but Morgan only gave it a cursory look before focusing on Harper as she explored the room.
He had been stealing glances at her all day; he could only imagine that it was a natural reaction to meeting his true mate, this need to learn all about her and to make sure that her needs and wants and wishes were seen to. Right now, though, he could look at her as much as he liked, take in her quick motions as she fluttered around the room, watch as she returned to the window over and over again to stare out over the cliffs.
“You're not afraid of heights, I take it?” he asked, coming up behind her.
“No, not at all,” Harper replied, looking out over the trees. Their window faced the west, and there was just a little bit of orange and salmon left to the sky. “When we were asked what super power we wanted as kids, I always wanted to fly.”
As if they had been doing it their entire lives, she tilted back to lean against his chest, and he folded her into his arms.
“Tell me what it's like.”
“Flying?”
“Yes.”
It's not something I'll get to do after this trip, he thought with a pang, and the thought was so painful it almost drove him to his knees. A shudder went through his body, and he knew that Harper could feel it. She started to turn around, but his arms tightened around her, keeping her still.
“It's…it's incredible,” he said softly. “There's this moment where you are pushing against the earth, and you think that of course it will never let you go. Then, somehow, it does, and you are soaring up into the clouds, far away from the world. You think you can touch the blue of the sky and the rose-gold of the clouds. You think you will never come down, that you can fly forever.”
His words trailed off, and he realized that there was a raw edge to his voice, something that burned his throat and clamped an iron band around his chest.
Gently, Harper turned in his embrace, reaching up to brush her knuckles against his face. There was something so intensely tender about the gesture that Morgan could only stare at her, hurt and healing all at once, and he felt strangely helpless.
“Princess...” he whispered, and she smiled at him.
He started to pull back, but this time, she wouldn't let him go. He knew that he could break her grasp if he wanted to; there was no question at all that he was the stronger of the two of them. However, Morgan felt, not trapped, perhaps, but restrained, and his mouth went dry as she looked up at him.
“You don't have to tell me why or how,” Harper murmured, her voice soft. “Just tell me where it hurts.”
Morgan didn't think he was going to do it. It was a ridiculously personal question, intimate. He had barely admitted the pain to himself, let alone voiced it to another person. Instead of brushing her off or telling her it was none of her business, he swallowed hard.
He tapped his left hand against his right shoulder, let it drift up to his neck and then down to his side, finally hovering over his hip before letting it drop down again.
Morgan searched Harper's face for pity or disgust, and he found nothing like that at all. Instead there was only kindness, and something inside him crumbled.
Tentatively, almost nervously, he bent his head to drop his mouth to hers. It was a gentle kiss, sweet and soft and investigatory. They had kissed madly before, but this was different. It was another first kiss, another way for them to know each other, and Morgan felt almost lightheaded as he drank her down, as her mouth parted for him and she sighed at the pleasure of it.
There was heat to the kiss, but this time there was no urgency to it at all. Their mouths met, and it was sweet and melting, as if they had all the time in the world. Morgan could have stood in the dimness of the room and kissed her forever if she hadn't finally pulled away.
“Come here,” she said, leading him to the bed. “Will you take your shirt off for me?”
“Always,” he said, and she gave him a wry smile.
“Not for that,” she said, and curiously, he lay down on the bed as she indicated, on his belly, head pillowed on his good arm.
Morgan's eyes drifted closed as she raked her fingers through his dark hair, and then she came to straddle his hips, pressing her clothed weight against him. It felt good, beyond good, but there was something banked about the fire between them. He wanted her like a forest fire wanted the trees, but right now, he was curious to see what she would do next, this true mate of his.
She passed the flat of her bare hands down his back, from the base of his neck to his waist, and the pleasure of her touch took his breath away, made him draw a quiet breath of surprise. Inside him, his dragon murmured quietly at the sensation. It was pleased and fascinated, curious and happy.
From her perch atop his hips, Harper stroked her hands down his bare back over and over again, and Morgan slowed his breath to match hers. His eyes couldn't keep from drifting shut.
“Are you falling asleep?” Harper asked.
“No, never,” he said, and it was the truth. Like his dragon, he felt so good with her hands on his body, but at the same time, he wouldn't have given up
