Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“What? Don’t be silly.” But now she stares pointedly at her fishing rod.
Then do you think I would find your body strange? Or unpleasant to look upon?
“Of course not.” Her thoughts drift back to the night that she mated me.
I am encouraged. I have been careful not to push Emma too hard. I want her to stay with me because she wants to, not because she feels she has to. I want her to realize that she wishes to be my mate, after all. I know this will take time. It was easier when I slept all day to regain my strength, though. Now that I am recovering, it makes it more difficult not to pull her against me and bury my face against her neck, breathing in her delicious scent.
If she gave me the word, I would push her down on this crumbling dock, splinters and all, and lick her cunt until she screams with joy.
“You’re bobbing,” she murmurs.
I glance down at my cock. It has hardened at my thoughts, true, but it is not “bobbing.”
“Um, your fishing pole.” Her thoughts are choked by a mixture of laughter and embarrassment both as she points at the water.
Ah. I realize she is right and the strange rod is jerking in my hands. I think for a moment and then decide to see what my mate will do. Show me how?
“Sure.” She is all purpose as she leans over me, her hands moving next to mine. “Give it a tug, and then you slowly reel in, like this.”
I pay no attention to what she is doing. I am more interested in the scent of her hair and her skin as she leans over me, the way her elbow grazes my thigh, the feel of her fingers brushing against mine. If this is what fishing entails, I do not mind it at all.
“Are you even looking?” she asks, amused.
My attention is all yours, I tell her, and I mean it.
EMMA
That night, we have several small perch roasting atop the coals of our tiny fire. It smells delicious as it cooks, and I season it with some spices I found in the apartment next door. Zohr doesn’t seem all that interested in dinner, and he gazes out the window instead, staring hard at the clear orange skies as the sun goes down.
I feel a twinge of unhappy guilt at the sight. “Dragons?” I ask, just in case.
No. Just many thoughts. He glances over at me. Do not worry. They do not make me sad.
“How can I not worry? I know you feel stuck,” I tell him, frustrated. He’s recovered quickly, but I know he wants to shift forms. More than that, I worry about how bad his wings will be. I feel responsible no matter what happens. “It’s my job to take care of you,” I tell him, and give dinner another sprinkle of pepper.
I am not your responsibility, he tells me, and his thoughts are edged with impatience. I am your mate. We are partners.
And now it’s my turn to go silent, because I’m not sure what to say to that. I don’t know how to be partners. With Jack, it was never truly a partnership. He was the mentor, and I was the student. Then he got too sick, and I was his caretaker until the end. I don’t know how to work alongside someone. I sure don’t know how to depend on someone.
And I’m pretty sure I’m shitty at trusting, too.
I glance over as Zohr scratches at one shoulder, trying to reach his stitches. I know they itch. He’s told me that over the last few days, and the wounds have all closed and scabbed over cleanly. I wonder about his delicate wings, tucked away against his shoulder blades, and if they healed well. I wonder if it wouldn’t be smarter to take the stitches out where I can see them and let him heal naturally at this point. I took out my own stitches two days ago, and Zohr’s look cleaner than mine did.
Is it possible I’m stalling because I’m scared of him in his dragon form? That the reason I keep insisting he stay in human form with me is because that’s easier for me? I can’t lie to myself—him in dragon form scared the shit out of me. He lost his mind all too quickly, and I couldn’t get him to talk to me. What happens if his wings are destroyed and it makes him go over the edge again? How do I bring him back?
That’s not the only problem. There’s also the question of…intimacy.
I don’t know how to be a mate. Or a girlfriend. Or anything like that. You would think it would be something that would come naturally, but every time Zohr gives me a heated look, I freeze up. It doesn’t matter that we’ve had sex twice. It doesn’t matter that he’s in my brain. Every time I get a hint that he is turned on or is watching me a little closer than normal, I freak out. I don’t know how to handle it. How do I react? Do I flirt? Ignore it? Encourage him? How?