***Dragon's POV***
The heat of the water was nothing compared to the burn of her skin against my mouth, her jaw, the scar at the base of her neck she’d never explained—a story I’d carve out of whoever put it there. She arched into me, nails scraping my scalp, her groan vibrating against my throat like a prayer.
“Drakon—”
“Say it again,” I growled, biting the lobe of her ear. Her real name for me, the one she’d whispered the night we'd spent together in New Orleans—not “Dragon,” but the Creole curse that meant storm-bringer.
She gasped, her hips grinding against me. “Asshole—”
I groaned, capturing her mouth once more. The kiss was a match to kerosene, igniting a fire that threatened to consume us both. Her hands fisted in my hair, lips parting with a gasp I swallowed whole, a taste of
