by Ruby Dixon
“Yes, I do,” she insists, her eyes pleading. “You have to break our connection, Zohr. You said so yourself. Azar’s coming after me because he knows he can use me against you. He knows that if he captures me, you’ll do whatever he wants, even if it means risking your life. And you saw that dragon earlier…” Her voice chokes on the words. I don’t want that to happen to you. I can’t let you try to claw your way back to the Rift. Not if it’ll kill you.
I take her hands in mine and squeeze them tightly. Losing you will kill me.
More water pours from her eyes. “No, Zohr—”
It is truth, I tell her, and let her feel it from my thoughts. There is no dishonesty, no manipulation, nothing but truth in my mind. You are the only thing that saves me from madness. Without Emma, there is no Zohr. Zohr is lost. It does not matter that Azar thinks to come after you. I will protect you. It does not matter that you make me vulnerable. My eyes make me vulnerable. My wings. My heart. My need to breathe. I would give them up before I gave up my mate. My fierce, brave Emma. I gaze down at her, hoping she will realize just how badly I need her. Without you, I break.
Her lower lip trembles. I can feel her indecision.
Even though it guts me, I must ask her. Do you hate being with me? Do you want to go? Every instinct in my body screams that I will never let her go. That she is mine and I will hold her to me with fang and claw, snarling, but I know my Emma. She is independent. She chafes in a cage.
She blinks repeatedly, and I can tell by her thoughts that she is surprised by her own confusion. I…I don’t know. I know it’s what’s best—
Is it? Is it what is best, or is it what you expect because everyone has abandoned you in the past? I press my brow to hers, as if I can give her all the love and affection that will convince her. Know this, Emma. You are mine. Even if I could let you go, I would not. You are tied to me, and I to you. There is no separating us. We are two halves of a whole.
My words please her and frighten her both. Zohr…I care for you. I’m just so scared… Her hands move to my hair, tangle in it as if she needs something to desperately hold on to. As if she needs anchoring. Strange that my strong-willed Emma might need me as an anchor as much as I need her. What if Azar tries to use me against you?
Another thought lies underneath, one that she dares not speak. What if I lose you, too, and it breaks me?
My Emma. My brave fires. You have been mine since you fearlessly mounted me. There is no turning back now.
Embarrassed, choked laughter bubbles out of her. “You just have to keep bringing that up.”
Of course I do. It is the day my world began.
She sighs and leans into me, and I sense that she is accepting my words. That the leaving she has worried over and has tried to hide from me will not be necessary, after all. I am stunned to realize she has been planning this, and I cannot stop the growl that rises in my throat. When was this? When did she shield her thoughts from me?
It strikes terror into my mind and I hold her fiercely. You are mine. We will be together, forever.
“What if we don’t get forever?” Emma whispers. “What if Azar takes that from us?”
Then I will destroy him. I will tear him open with my teeth and watch him bleed to death. Then I will char his body until there is nothing left but ashes, and I will take great joy in watching them scatter in the breeze.
She gives another deep sigh, as if such a thought makes her happy. She clings to me, but it is clear in her thoughts that she is not yet willing to give up her idea of leaving.
Tell me what you need, I demand from her. Anything she asks, I will give it.
Unless it is her freedom. That, she will never have.
“Weapons,” she says immediately. “Guns. Ammo. A fortress.” Her hands tighten in my hair and excitement flares in her eyes. “If we know he’s going to come after us, it’ll be better if we’re ready. We can find someplace that’s easy to defend and make traps. We can make Molotovs if we can find gasoline. Maybe we can find an old army supply store and see if they have grenades. I can see if I can find information on how to make homemade pipe bombs. We can set booby traps, and if he sends his goons after us, we’ll be ready. If he sends dragons after us, we’ll be ready. We can fight, but we need the equipment.” Her eyes are alight with excitement. “And if we can set ourselves up in a fortress, it’ll give us a safe place to take time to heal and work on your wings.”
I am relieved. She wishes for weapons to guard me? My strong, smart warrior mate. I am pleased. Whatever you wish for, I will get for you. Wherever you choose, we will make our nest there.
“I might skip comfort in favor of defensibility,” she admits. “I hope that’s all right with you.”
Anywhere you go, I will be there. I do not care if we sleep on a bed of hot coals.
“Let’s not get carried away,” she tells me with a chuckle. Her expression softens and she bites her lip, gazing at me. “And you? What is it you want? Should we go away? Head off somewhere distant and hope Azar doesn’t follow us?”
I brush my nose against hers. Retreat? No. We cannot be sure that he would not follow us. I like your plan. As for what I require… I brush my fingers against her soft cheek and send her a volley of erotic thoughts. I want my mate under me. I want to claim her and fill her with my seed.
She sucks in a breath, and I feel a rush of answering desire in her thoughts. All you want is me?
All I have ever wanted is you, my Emma. I lean in and claim her mouth in a fierce kiss. And I am tired of waiting.
She moans and leans into me.
28
ZOHR
There is no pleasure like kissing one’s mate, to feel her tongue brush against my own, her lips giving as I conquer her mouth. Despite the terrible perfume that blankets us, I can smell her unique scent, faint under the other masking smells. I do not need it to know that she enjoys my kiss; her little moans tell me that she does. Her thoughts encourage me to kiss her even more.
Humans are not all bad, it seems. They gave me my Emma. And they kiss, which is a sharing of mouths unlike anything I have ever experienced. Emma boldly mounted me that first time, and I can only imagine what other pleasures humans have created with their imaginations. She will show me all of them, and we will discover their pleasures together. I like the thought of this very much.
My sweet mate, I send to her as her mouth opens under mine and her little tongue pushes into my mouth. Odd how she can be so bold in all aspects, but when it comes to mating, she grows shy, as if I would somehow refuse her kisses or caresses. Does she not realize I would refuse her nothing? I love everything about her. I want her to be as hungry for me as I am for her. So when she seeks to end the kiss, I lightly suck on the tip of her tongue, and I thoroughly enjoy her little moan of response.
This fortress of yours, I send to her with a fierce kiss. Do you wish to find it today?
“Oh.” She stares up at me, dazed and panting. Her cheeks are no longer wet with her water-making, but her eyes are still red, her lashes thick, her expression soft. She sniffs and then shakes her head. “No, it can wait a day.”
Good. Because I am going to claim you. I lean in and bury my face against her neck, breathing in her scent. I will fill you with my seed this day and mark my scent on you so that all will know you are mine.
She gasps, startled by my strong thoughts, but she holds on to me tightly. I can tell by her thoughts that she likes the idea.
“We should remake the bed, then,” she murmurs. “I’ve put away all the blankets.”
In expectation of her leaving, she has packed her bags. I can tell by the images in her mind that she prepared to leave, and it makes me growl low in my throat. I release my mate, walk away…then turn around and give her another fierce kiss of claiming. When she is breathless and staggering, I end the kiss and move to her bag, the one that she carries all her goods in. The blankets are stored in there, neatly rolled in bundles atop her back. I use my claws and slash the ties open,
the blankets spilling out and unraveling. I do not stop there, though. I grab her pack and shake the contents onto the ground, then tear the fabric of the pack apart, rending it to pieces. You are staying. Your place is with me.
“Okay, okay,” she calls out, laughing. She’s both exasperated and amused at my tantrum. “I’ll have you know you just ruined a perfectly good backpack.”
I will get you more as long as you promise to never leave me.
Her expression goes soft, and she nods. “I won’t. I’m sorry, Zohr. Like I said, I’m not used to needing anyone, and I hate the thought of what it could mean for your safety if we stay together.”
I do not care, I tell her, stalking back to her side. I am far more miserable at the thought of losing you. I pick her up and carry her the few steps over to the spilled blankets scattered on the hard floor. Does this bedding please you? Or do you need more to mate upon?
She pats my shoulder, her lips twitching with amusement. “How about you let me fix the bed up, all right?”
Very well.
I set her down and she immediately goes to her knees, smoothing and straightening out blankets. I find it odd that humans are so fixated on extra skins on their bodies and blankets to sleep under, especially when it is so very hot. But then again, my Emma does not have hard scales to protect her from the equally hard flooring. It is painful under her softer body, and it reminds me that above all, my mate is vulnerable and not like a drakoni female.
I must be very careful with her, even in mating. She is strong and fierce in spirit, but in flesh she is so very fragile.
When she is finished with the bedding, she takes her shoes off and sets them neatly beside the blankets, then peels off her foot coverings. I can tell the blush has returned to her face, because her thoughts grow increasingly awkward as she undresses.
If your coverings embarrass you so much, stop wearing them, as I do.
Emma giggles and shakes her head. “That’d be a tricky one to explain to anyone we meet up with.”
Then we shall meet no one. We will avoid all others—both human and drakoni.
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Not a bad idea.”
I watch her as she makes herself comfortable, taking her time removing the layers she wears. My thoughts are hungry as she exposes her body, bit by bit, and when she slides off the thick blue skin that covers her legs and reveals the tiny tuft of dark hair between her thighs, I growl low in my throat, full of need.
Mine, I tell her.
I can feel her skittish embarrassment—and the excitement she feels, too. “Your thoughts are very…intense,” she tells me.
They are. I do not disagree. I feel very strongly for my sweet mate. It is time for me to claim her, to taste her again. Already it feels as if lifetimes have passed since my mouth was on her.
“Or yesterday,” she teases, hearing my thoughts. “Pretty sure it was just yesterday.”
Too long, I tell her. Can you blame me for being hungry for my mate? For loving her taste and the way she sighs when my mouth is on her?
She shivers and pulls the last of her layers of clothing off. “No.”
Then let me taste and enjoy you, I demand. I lower to the blankets and prowl over the short distance to her side.
She chuckles. “You know, when I decided to mind-link you, I had no idea you were going to be so very…playful.”
What did you think I was going to be? I lean in and press my face against her shoulder, to her delicious skin and breathe deep. She smells so good that it makes my cock ache.
“I don’t know. Quieter?” Emma smiles to herself, even as she reaches out to run her fingers through my hair. “I didn’t realize we’d be inside each other’s heads all day every day. I guess I didn’t think it through very well at all.”
Her words give me pause. Do you regret your choice?
“No,” she whispers. “I’m really glad. It’s like…I found my best friend.” She gazes at me with such intense emotion. “I love you, Zohr. I’m just…scared this will all backfire and we’re going to lose each other.”
I will not allow that to happen, I promise her. I will die before I let anyone take her from me. But it is clear she needs reassurance, my mate. I lean closer, my face toward hers, and give her a gentle kiss. She puts her hands on my jaw and holds me, deepening the kiss and giving me all the urgency she feels.
It is time for more than kisses, though. I pull my mouth from hers and bury my face against her neck. With one hand, I cup her breast and caress the nipple the way she likes. She whimpers and leans into my touch, her hand locking in my hair.
“Zohr,” she breathes, and it is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
My mate, let me touch you. Let me give you pleasure. I can tell that she finds my mouth against her neck ticklish, so I lick at her soft skin even as I rub her nipple with the pad of my thumb. She pants, and then sends me a mental image of my mouth on her breasts.
I love the thought—more than that, I love that she is sending me suggestions, telling me what she wants. I move lower along her body, kissing and licking as I do, and when I reach her breast, she arches, pushing her nipple toward my mouth. I give in to her silent request and lap at the peak with my tongue, and she moans loudly and clings to me as if she will lose all control if she lets go.
I tease and tongue her nipple, toying with the stiff little bud of it, enjoying her soft cries. The noises she makes when I touch her are some of my greatest pleasures. My hand rests on her belly and she shifts her hips under me, clearly wanting more. The scent of her musk, of her arousal, roars through my senses, and I want to taste her. I dip my claws gently between the folds of her soft cunt and stroke, covering my hand with the evidence of her desire. Then I raise it to my mouth and suck her juices off of my fingers, drinking her in.
She moans again, writhing under me. My name is on her lips, panted between breaths, and I love how excited—and how chaotic—her mind is with passion. She loses control when I touch her, and her excitement matches my own. There is nothing that brings me more pleasure than touching her body and watching her responses. It makes me want to do more, to give her more touches that will make her go wild. Tell me where you want me to touch you, I demand.
Her mind immediately flashes full of visual images, of my hand between her thighs and stroking the nub she calls a clit. Of me sinking a finger inside her and caressing her from within.
I pause, because my claws will surely get in the way. I do not like the thought of hurting her, but I cannot touch her the way she wants with them. With my people, it is a sign of shame if a drakoni’s claws are removed…
But I am not in my homeland anymore. I am here, with my mate, who is human and different. She wants different things.
I remember her eagerness to touch me, to have me spill in her mouth. She did not understand why I found it shameful. Perhaps it is time I stop thinking like a drakoni and instead think like my Emma’s mate. She is my world, so why not ensure that everything I do is for her?
I raise one forefinger to my mouth and snap the tip of my claw off with my teeth. I spit it aside and examine my finger. The nail is blunted and short like hers, harmless. Weak.
“What are you doing?” she breathes, watching me with curious eyes.
I am pleasing my mate, I tell her, and lean in to kiss her. Even as I do, I slide my finger—now free of its claw—between the wet folds of her cunt and drag it against her clit.
She gasps, arching against me. I can feel the flare of intense need as it spikes through her. She likes that—and it pleases me that I can bring her such great pleasure. I want to do more.
She moans, spreading her thighs wider as I caress her clit, and I am fascinated by her movements, by how wet she gets from these small touches, how much she wriggles underneath me, as if desperate to get away but somehow wanting more. I move lower on her body so I can watch. I slide her cunt apart with my fingers, admiring how slick she is, how pink underneath the protective tuft of hair. Her scent is i
ntoxicating, and I drag my finger lazily back and forth, circling the small bud of her clit. It makes her wild with hunger, and she pants and clutches at my shoulders, my name repeated over and over on her lips.
She quivers and trembles underneath me, and her cunt is glazed with wetness, but still she does not come. I am both fascinated and frustrated by this, because I want to watch her lose control. I want to feel her mind when she comes undone. She needs more. I stroke her cunt again, moving slowly, and then slide my declawed forefinger to the well of her core, where she is wettest and hottest.
She gives a soft cry, her hips arching. Her excitement intensifies, and mine does, as well. I use one hand to spread her cunt wide, even as I push my finger deep inside her with my other hand. She looks so juicy and tempting that I cannot resist a taste, and I swipe my tongue over her wetness even as I push my finger deep. Her cunt is tight around my finger, clasping me with her slick walls, but like this I can feel every tremble she makes. Her thoughts turn to a near starburst when my tongue flicks over her clit again, and her body jerks in response. Emma’s hands tighten in my hair, and her moaning of my name has stopped. She feels tense in my arms. Coiled. She is close, then.
I bury my mouth between her thighs, licking and sucking at the tender flesh of her clit, even as I sink my finger deep inside her again. I am using my hand as I would my cock, I realize, mimicking the thrusts of my body. This is what she needed to come, I realize, as she pants, and the urgency in her thoughts grows desperate. It pleases me.
I send her an onslaught of images as I lap at her clit and fuck her tight cunt with my finger. I let her know what she tastes like, how tight and wet she is, how much it pleases me. Over and over, I share what I am thinking and how erotic I find her as she writhes under me.
She gives a wordless little cry and her entire body quakes. Her thoughts burst and then contract, and she goes tight under me, her cunt sucking on my finger as she comes. Her core grows even wetter with her release, soaking my hand and flavoring the air with her scent.