Shards: Book One of the Anderian Series

Shattered

"Do you ever dream of going somewhere else?"

"Where else would we go?"

His hand was swallowed mine, and my heart fluttered at the sight. Strange how something so simple made me feel so protected. I smiled when his hand drifted north, moving onto the flat plane of my stomach, fingers circling over my skin lazily as if they had no purpose even as my nipples hardened in anticipation. He never could stay away from them when they were uncovered, and he did his damndest to make sure they were rarely covered.

"Anywhere but here," I replied, my breath hitching when the calloused pad of his thumb slid over the sensitive nub. The bed shifted as he rolled to his side and replaced his fingers with his mouth. Back arching, I gripped the sheet as his tongue teased and tormented the nipple before his lips finally puckered tight and he sucked hard.

I came with a moan, his name a chant as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. He did not give me any respite and covered my body with his, nudging my legs open so he could slide into my warmth. But he didn't move—not even when I rocked against him to urge him on, already greedy for the next climax.

"There is nowhere safe in this world for you," he whispered, one hand pushing my sweaty hair out of my face and the other disappearing into the space where we were joined.

"Maybe not in Anderie, but there are other worlds."

"Other worlds?" He gasped. "Those are myths."

"No," I insisted, wrapping my arms around his back and dragging my nails over the taut muscle. I was done talking. Done explaining. There would be time for this conversation later—after he finished what he started.

I came awake with a shriek and shot upright. Navy blue sheets tangled around my waist and legs, but unlike the intense dream I'd just left behind, I was clothed and alone and left with the ache of being unfulfilled. Flopping back onto the cozy bed, my hand slid beneath the band of the oversized gray sweatpants currently adorning my lower half and sought the wet heat between my legs. There were important things to remember. Things far more important than dealing with my current horny state, but with that dream clouding my thoughts, I couldn't seem to care.

Eyes pinched shut, I tried to recall the details of the man who made me come just by sucking on my nipples, but like most dreams after waking, everything had gone fuzzy. I couldn't even remember his face or the things we said to one another, but my body clung to the way he made me feel. I rubbed and bucked my hips, panting as the first hint of pleasure bloomed, building like a wave and finally cresting, plunging me into bliss as I cried out in relief.

Panting, I stared at the ceiling and resisted the urge to tear my hair out. That orgasm had taken the edge off, but I was still aching. It was the kind of ache that only a partner could satisfy, and I had promised myself Jac and I would never cross that line again.

"Jac," I yelled, throwing back the cover and tumbling out of bed. Unlike the dream, the images that filled my mind were vivid and unrelenting. The choking smoke. The fire devouring the house. All while Jac was inside. My legs buckled and the wooden floor was hard on my knees when I landed on the ground.

"Your amouri is alive."

"Wh-what?" I screeched, throwing myself backward and crab walking until I hit the wall.

Cian cocked his head to the side and studied me with a veiled expression. He stretched his legs and rose from a chair in the corner.

"The man you call Jac. I have word he survived the fire."

"Oh thank god," I sobbed, rubbing my chest through the sweatshirt I was wearing. A sweatshirt that, like the pants, did not belong to me. And then a thought struck me... "How long have you been sitting there?"