My breath hitched as Ronson's fingers massaged and kneaded and circled their way up the back of my thighs. I'd suffered a heavy pit in my chest upon waking and finding Ronson gone from the castle, and I'd lost my train of thought too many times to count, sinking into the memories of his touch and imagining what would happen when he returned. But imagining was easy and careless in comparison to surrendering to reality.

Ronson was vast and handsome and terrifying and so, so tempting. His stare made me squirm with nerves, and his touch left me boneless and weak.

"I know it's late," he continued, dropping a wet kiss to the rise of my breast against the collar of my dress. "I know I've left you here at odd ends for days." Another kiss, a lick of his tongue into the tight crush of my cleavage. "Believe me, it's not what I'd hoped for. I planned to spend the days leading up to the rut…well, however you wished. But as much of them in bed with you as you'd grant me."

My eyes squeezed shut, a strange dip and soar rattling inside me at his words, like we were in flight. His hands were sliding up under my bottom, fingertips inching closer to the soft insides, the warm, damp place that was aching and pounding at my core.

"The-the nest," I said, as if I could pretend this dragon, the alpha, wasn't telling me he wanted me. "D-did you see⁠—?"

"It's perfect, Mairwen," Ronson murmured.

I whimpered at the words, heat blooming in my chest, at the base of my throat, in my cheeks, and the place where Ronson's fingers were delving. He groaned on top of me, heavy and grinding and pushing up to press his open mouth against my pulse. There was a soft haze and an unfamiliar sweetness in my throat. My hands on his cheeks slid into his hair and around his shoulders, gripping his jacket in my fists.

Ronson groaned against my throat, huffing, body rocking on top of mine. He pulled away and I let out a wordless cry of objection, trying to clutch him close once more, before he wedged one of his knees between mine and then another. I glanced down between us and found the picture of my ample bare thighs bracketing his own tight trousers and muscled frame.

I moaned and released him, covering my face with my hands. Ronson tutted above me, sinking down once more, circling his arms around my back.

"Don't hide, omega," he whispered.

I shivered at the way he said the word. Omega. I'd been one my entire life, but I'd never been enough of one, and there was something frightening and wonderful in the way he kept using it. His lips kissed against the back of my hand, and his fingers worked quickly at the laces of my dress.

"Let me look at you, Mairwen," he coaxed, all rasp and whisper. "Let me touch you."

I licked my lips and peeked out between my fingers. Ronson's smiles were rare, but there was a crinkle at the corner of his eyes that gentled the clench of his jaw.

"All right."

Ronson's head tipped to the side, watching me closely, and I reached for the crumpled skirt of my dress, lifting it up to my waist. He hummed and helped me as I arched and twisted, not rising up completely but enough for me to pull the dress over my head.

"Mairwen, you know I am the alpha of the isle, yes?" Ronson said, frowning down at me.

I blinked, my brow furrowing. "Of course."

"And that my word is authority."

I swallowed hard, scrambling back, searching for the point where I had made some error or done something wrong. "Y-yes?"

"Good," Ronson said, his expression cracking, laughter twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Then please listen when I say it is a crime for you to bind your breasts so tightly."

I snorted and rolled my eyes, and Ronson's grin brightened the room. "Then I suppose you'd better help me out of this," I said, trying to be coy but knowing my face was entirely red.

He rumbled out a purr, hands sliding up my waist, barely tangible through the rigid structure of the corset. I started to roll over, and he tightened his grip. "No, don't move. Just—" The bite of boning dug into my breasts, and then a rending pop and tear cried out from underneath, the structure going slack. He'd torn my corset open!

I burst out in sudden laughter, shocked and delighted. I had another corset, but I supposed this was a lesson. He was serious about keeping me out of this one. I giggled as he finished tearing through the laces, unbinding my waist and tugging the contraption out from under me with a victorious grunt. The seams had popped and shredded, and one length of boning stuck out from its previous binding.

"What if this poked through? It could stab you," Ronson growled. He rose up onto his knees, wadding up the fabric and laces as much as he was able, and I let out another sharp bark of laughter as he sent the whole thing into the blazing fireplace.

"That was very wasteful, my lord," I said.

I liked this version of our alpha, wicked and playful. He terrified me a little too, mostly because this was so…new and unexpected. Being teased, flirted with, gazed down at like I was a bowl of ripe fruit drizzled with honey and he was a man who hadn't eaten in weeks, was such a foreign experience I sometimes wanted to search for a mirror to see if I was still…me. My hands rose to shield my barely concealed body from his stare, but he caught my wrists in his grip and then slid and fastened our fingers together.

"Delicious," he rasped, gaze stroking from my head down to my spread knees. "Do you remember what I promised you that first night?"

I'm going to go up in flames. I can't keep feeling warmer if I'm not about to combust, surely. But I nodded.

"May I?" Ronson leaned forward, still holding my hands, pushing them back to the floor as he stretched on top of me. But he held my stare and waited for my answer.

"May you…" I couldn't say it. I could barely even think it.

"May I suck and kiss and lick and squeeze your breasts until you can't stand another second, until the pressure in you is too great to bear and you burst, Mairwen?" Ronson rumbled.

Oh, that.

My tongue darted out, and my lips were numb and hot, and Ronson growled, diving down, catching my lips with his teeth, meeting my tongue with his own. Our hands separated only so our arms could twine around one another, his grip claiming my back and my waist and my thigh, drawing it up to hook around his hips, to grind our bodies together. I whimpered into his mouth, clutching the base of his wings, scrambling my hands up his side and then back down, realizing he had the right of it. Grabbing onto the firm flesh of his ass was lovely and gave me better leverage to lift my own hips, to rub myself against his trousers.

"Fang's fire, Mairwen, please."

"Yes, yes, I want—Ah!"

Ronson wasted no time, tearing from my lips and diving down. I mourned the loss of his mouth, but only until he was nuzzling and nipping and sucking on my breasts through the thin veil of my chemise. His purr vibrated into my chest and he found my nipple through the cotton, laving his tongue back and forth, creating a strange friction of slick fabric and hot pressure. His hips had drawn away from mine, but my legs could twist around his waist and back to hold him close, my fingers sliding through soft, dark curls to clutch him to me.

He was completely dressed, and I was wearing a chemise shoved up to my waist that barely disguised the soft texture of his tongue and the pattern of his teeth as he sucked a mark on the underside of my breast. We were in the library, for goodness' sake, and while it was incredibly late, there was no reason why we might not be discovered. Except Ronson's wings were lifting, stretching, shadowing us, and all anyone would see of me if they walked in was my bare legs tightening like a vice around the Alpha of Bleake Isle.