Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [96]
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “You have been a little . . . er . . . passionate the last few days.”
“I was passionate about you before the phylactery exploded. But the shard is doing more than just making me want you—it’s changing my emotions, changing me, and Gabriel, what if I don’t change back when the shard is gone? What if we can’t get rid of it?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. “I wish I could assure you that your fears are unfounded, but I don’t know the answer to your questions.”
“You see?” I said, all but sobbing. “I can’t make love to you, Gabriel. I want to, but not at the cost of losing the last little bit of me. I don’t want to be a dragon. I may not be perfect, or even remotely close to that, but I was happy being me. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
He laughed, and for a moment I wanted to punch him. But then a tiny shred of common sense rose up to point out the unlikelihood of him mocking my concerns. “Mayling, making love to you will remain at the top of my daily list of things to do, but as I assured you once before, I am not a beast. If you require a little space to put things into perspective, then I will gladly give it to you.” He glanced down at his erection. “It will not be easy, but if you wish to remain chaste for a bit, I will not force myself upon you.”
“I didn’t mean I was sorry that I couldn’t make love to you,” I said, forlorn knowledge making me want to burst into tears. I swallowed back a painful lump. “I meant I’m sorry that I can’t be the dragon you obviously want.”
“Now you are acting all too human, fishing for compliments,” he said with a playful grin that faded when I didn’t respond. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I nodded, too miserable to speak, my eyes on the carpet beneath my knees.
“May, look at me.”
It took a bit of doing, but I managed to drag my gaze up to his.
“Before, when you started the mating dance, it was exciting to me,” he said, and my heart turned into a leaden ball. “I would like to say I could have not responded, but that would be impossible. I am a dragon. You are my mate. You initiated a mating dance, and that delighted me. But that delight was nothing compared to what you mean to me. You are my mate, May, the being that is you, no matter what your form.”
Unfamiliar tears pricked my eyes. I hated the dragon shard for making me feel so overwhelmed with gratitude, so vulnerable. “You wouldn’t want me to be a dragon like you?”
“Not if you don’t want it, no,” he said, taking both my hands in his, kissing each finger. “You are happy as you are—were—and I have no complaints whatsoever about that state of affairs. So you can stop feeling guilty and unhappy, and instead tell me what your limit is.”
“My limit?” I said, blinking away the last of the tears, my heart once again hopeful. Perhaps it was a sign I was all too human in that I sought reassurance that he treasured me for what I was, but if so, I embraced that humanity. “What sort of a limit do you mean?”
“How far can you go without the dragon shard taking control of you?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing across my fingers.
A little fire started at my knees.
“Ah,” he said, looking at it.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Just looking at you makes the shard kick into high gear, but I can keep it under control for the most part. It’s just when we . . . er . . . that it takes over. And bringing gold into the equation is definitely out.”
“Can I kiss you?” he said, bending forward to press a kiss of infinite sweetness onto my lips.
“Yes,” I said, lifting my head in hopes he’d do it again.
“Can I touch you here?” He put his hand on my upper arm.
I nodded.
A little glint of wicked intent started to burn in his eyes. “What about here?”
His hand cupped my left breast. I sucked in my breath, arching my back. “Oh, yes.”
“And how about this?”
His mouth closed over my aching nipple, his tongue a brand as it swept across my breast, causing my breath to catch in my mouth. My hands went to his hair, tugging on the soft dreadlocks as he kissed his way over