Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
One hand skims over my cheek. "It's like licking your cunt," he says, gaze fixed on my wet, swollen mouth. "Now I understand why humans do it." He touches my mouth with his thumb, utterly fixed on my lips, and then dips in again for another taste.
I've created a monster, I decide, as he hungrily ravages my mouth with kiss after kiss. A monster who wants nothing more than to kiss me and run his hands all over me, and eat me out. As he breaks away, panting, to duck under my skirts and press his face against my inner thighs, I'm lost in a swirl of emotion.
If he'd led with this, would I have fought so hard against being his mate? The thought occurs to me moments before his tongue is slicking through my folds, and then he groans low, pushing my thighs apart…
And then I'm not thinking anything at all.
That night, instead of sleeping at the edge of the bed, I creep a little closer to him.
It's like the dam has broken. Now that I've gotten a few kisses and cuddles from him (and of course, being licked from the front of my crease to back), I'm craving a bit more intimacy. More touching. When he pulls me against him, a strong arm locking around me, I don't mind that he's hot like a furnace. I just pull the covers off and move a little closer.
Perhaps it's because I'm tucked against him that I wake up in the middle of the night with the knowledge that something's wrong. I drift awake, confused when I notice it's still dark. Normally I sleep soundly, so I lie in bed, eyes open in the shadows, and stretch my senses.
Do I smell…smoke?
Behind me, Azar tenses. His breathing becomes rapid and his body jerks. To my surprise, he makes an animalistic snarl, one I've never heard from him before. I slip out of his grip and move out of bed, looking over at him. When he doesn't move, I realize he's still asleep. He remains where he was on the bed, but in the moonlight, his fingers twitch and I can see movement underneath his eyelids.
Smoke erupts from his nostrils, and he thrashes on the bed.
Sucking in a breath, I wait for him to wake up, but he doesn't. He's caught in the throes of a nightmare, growling and making sounds that I've only heard from Claudia's dragon. It's like something in him is…reverting. "Azar?" I say softly. "Can you hear me?"
No response.
I move to his side of the bed, less frightened of him and more concerned that something is terribly, awfully wrong.
"Azar," I try again, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. "Wake up."
He jerks, his eyes flying open, and for a moment, they're pitch black. A curl of steam escapes one nostril before his eyes focus and turn gold once more, his gaze fixing on me.
"Are you all right?" I ask, brushing my fingers over his forehead. To my surprise, his skin is damp. On even the hottest days of the summer, Azar has never cracked a sweat. "You're having a nightmare."
He grabs my hand, and to my shock, his nails have turned into claws. Again, I'm reminded of Claudia's dragon-man. For all that Azar claims to be nothing like him, I can't help but think that they're far more similar than he suspects. "Something…" he manages to croak out. "Something was in my dreams."
"What?"
He swallows hard, then shakes his head. "I thought…something from the Rift." He lets out a ragged breath. "I'm sure it's nothing."
"Just a nightmare?" I soothe, squeezing his hand.
"Just a nightmare," he agrees. "Go back to sleep."
I nod and let go of his hand, returning to the far side of the bed. Maybe I caused this by cuddling with him in bed. Maybe he's not used to having someone touch him in his sleep and it triggered some sort of nightmare. How many times has he said that Salorians don't take mates, Salorians don't have feelings, Salorians don't show fear? Yet the longer we're together, the more that seems like crap. Perhaps this is his subconscious lashing out. So when I get back into bed, I carefully arrange the sheets over my legs and turn my back to him, making sure to keep a good deal of space between us.
No sooner do I close my eyes than Azar is there on my side of the bed, sliding his arms around me. "Why are you retreating again?" He presses a kiss to my shoulder. "I want you in my arms."
"I was giving you space," I say softly. "Just in case I was the cause of your nightmares."
"You are not." He pulls me back against him, tucking my body against his. "Having you in my arms calms me. Go back to sleep."