Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
She makes another startled sound and skitters away again.
I grit my teeth in frustration. She wants me. She likes my touch. Why does she run the moment I try to embrace her? Scowling, I watch her, trying to understand the game she plays. I can feel the madness creeping at the edges of my thoughts, my joy at finding my mate bleeding away at the realization she does not want me to touch her.
“Jurik,” she says again softly, and her expression is unhappy. She hesitates, and then takes a step toward me.
I reach for her, only to have her push my hand away. I growl in response.
She shakes her head. “Jurik.” Her hand—trembling—reaches for my face, and then she pauses, watching me. I remain perfectly still as she runs her fingers over my mouth and jaw, and then pauses again. When I reach for her once more, she pushes my hand aside and puts hers on my chest, her fingers skimming over my breast.
I understand, now.
She will not run, but she wants to do the touching. It is as I thought—she is skittish. Has she never mated before, then? Has no other male attempted her? With my people, the females mate—and fight—with abandon, looking to claim the strongest male possible, but in the end, it is the male’s decision. It does not matter how fierce the female is if he refuses to give her his fires.
Perhaps her people—humans—do not work like this. Or perhaps because she is so gentle, she does not challenge for many males. Whatever it is, she is shy and hesitant in my arms, and I want to keep her there.
So I remain still as she reaches for my face again, her expression wary. This time, when she touches me, I press my cheek into her caress, but keep my hands at my sides.
Her smile grows brighter. “Jurik.”
I cannot stop the pleased rumble in my throat.
17
RACHEL
What the fuck am I supposed to do with a dragon?
The thought occurs to me as I touch Jurik’s face. He finally understands that the more he grabs at me, the more nervous it makes me. I’m still bruised from Brady’s attack, so it’s hard for me to just ease into his arms. I can’t help but be nervous, and I think this irks him.
But he’s not leaving. He’s not leaving and he’s not attacking and his eyes are staying mostly gold, so this is a win.
Azar said I needed to link with Jurik. To bring him to “our” side. Tiny problem—I’m not sure how I get to that, other than just tugging my pants off and getting down on all fours. I’m sure both Jurik and Azar would be fine with that, but I’m not. This is my first time to be touched intimately, and I can’t just jump in, guns blazing.
I’m far too nervous.
It’s clear Jurik has expectations, though. His huge cock hasn’t deflated in the slightest, and when I trace my fingers over his jaw, he groans so deeply that it feels scandalous. Beyond touching his face, though, I’m not sure what the fuck I’m supposed to do. I stick to touching him for now, learning his body and the differences between us.
Like for starters? He’s not shy.
Jurik is proudly naked, and it’s obvious from his body language that he sees no problems with all this nudity. He doesn’t make exceptions for his nudity, either. Maybe a normal guy would bend down so I can touch his jaw, but Jurik just remains tall and proud, expecting me to plaster myself against his front so I can touch him. He’s all hot skin, this dragon-man, and I’m fascinated by the hard, stubborn set of his features and the fact that he looks so handsome and human…even though he’s anything but human.
He flicks a claw at my shirt as I caress his jaw, tracing his features and learning his face and just getting used to touching him. I keep wondering if he’ll kiss me, but he never makes a move toward it. Perhaps dragons don’t kiss.
The thought’s disappointing. No talking, no kissing. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I can introduce him to kissing, maybe…but I don’t know how to do it myself.
I guess it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is keeping him calm and making him my friend. He can’t fly off the handle, and I can’t antagonize him until we get comfortable with each other.
It’s a tricky, complicated situation, and I’m not entirely thrilled to be in it.
I lightly run my fingers over his face, touching the horns at his hairline and tracing his brows before lowering my hand to his chest. He puts his hand over mine, making me pause. “Jurik,” he growls.
I look up at him, startled, and his full, strangely pouty mouth is curled at the edges in a smile. Is he teasing me?