Kraving Dravka (The Krave of Everton Book 3)

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Kraving Dravka (The Krave of Everton Book 3) Page 11

by Zoey Draven


  She didn’t know why but her eyes flooded with tears at the words.

  Maybe because she knew he wasn’t just talking about sex.

  And suddenly, she couldn’t stop crying. The tears just kept streaming down her cheeks and she was so fucking mortified and sad and happy and wanting him that she didn’t hide it.

  “Val,” Dravka murmured, swallowing, his brow furrowing as if in pain. “Vauk, mellkia. Don’t do that.”

  He shifted their positions until his back was to the wall his bed was pushed up against. Then he dragged her forward, turning her so that she was draped across his lap, though he was careful to keep her away from his cock and the mess in his lap.

  She curled into him, pressing her cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeats, clutching him to her. As for him, he cradled her close, pressed kisses to the top of her head, and then stroked his fingers down her hair until…

  Until she calmed down and the tears began to taper off.

  Valerie didn’t know how long they sat there, in the quiet darkness of his room. But eventually, her tears stopped and she just felt stuffed up with a slight headache…and embarrassed. But…strangely accepting of that embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, meeting his gaze through her shimmering vision.

  Shame bit at her. She’d pawed at him like she’d always imagined his clients did. For so long, that was why she’d kept her distance physically. Because she didn’t want him to think she was taking advantage of him, especially when he had sex with a different woman every night, save for when he was deep in his Rut.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, holding his eyes though she wanted to hide. She wanted to flee but…that was what she’d always done. And maybe it was the sadness on Celine Larchmont’s face or that she’d discovered the relationship between her future husband and her aunt…but Valerie found she wanted to be honest with Dravka.

  Possibly for the first time. Utterly and completely honest. And she wanted to be brave and not hide away from him. Not hide away from her wants and feelings. Because soon those things wouldn’t matter anymore.

  She would be marrying Gabriel Larchmont in a few short weeks, maybe less, considering their conversation over dinner.

  A few short weeks left with Dravka.

  “Why do you think you shouldn’t have done that?” he asked, keeping his voice low. The shadows flickered over his face, softening his features, and Valerie had the strongest urge to reach up and trace the lines she saw there. “For years I thought…”

  He trailed off, his jaw ticking.

  Her brow furrowed. “Thought what?”

  “That you didn’t want me that way.”

  Shock made her lips part.

  “There were times when I suspected you wanted more,” he continued softly, reaching out to touch her cheek. “But sometimes, you’re so vauking hard to read, Val.”

  “You thought I didn’t want you?” she whispered. Just the thought, the realization, made tears pool in her vision again.

  “I could never be certain,” he told her, smoothing the tears away. “I thought it was easier to remain friends. I didn’t want to ruin anything between us. Sex always has a way of ruining things.”

  Of course, he would think that.

  She wanted to be honest with him?

  Well, now was her chance.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” she told him, her heart throbbing in her chest. He made a sound in the back of his throat. “Always. But I didn’t want you to think—I didn’t want you to think that I was like your clients. Like all the rest.”

  “You believed I would think,” Dravka said, his tone incredulous, “you were using me for sex?”

  When he said it like that, it sounded strange. But he was a Keriv’i male. He’d told her that even before Madame Allegria had brought him to Everton, Keriv’i males were always sought out for sex. He’d been groped in cantinas and bars on various colonies. He’d had strangers murmur dirty things in his ear, in hopes of arousing him. He’d been pursued and harassed endlessly by packs of females—and sometimes males alike.

  They all had. Tavak had been a sex worker long before Everton. Because it paid to be a Keriv’i male.

  It made her sick, just thinking about what they’d all experienced, but she didn’t want to be another female in his eyes, just angling for sex.

  Dravka’s jaw was tight.

  “I thought that maybe things had changed between us,” he told her. “Four months ago.”

  Valerie felt her flush blooming. She knew exactly what he was referring to.

  “Do you remember?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Of course, I do.”

  She saw Dravka’s lips twitch.

  It had been during one of his Ruts. All the Keriv’i were usually chained to their beds during the most intense parts of it. Dravka especially, though she’d never known why.

  Until a few months back.

  Khiva had chained Dravka up and Valerie had gone in to check on him and keep him company. She’d found early on that talking to him while he was in a Rut helped calm him down. And—she’d thought—made the need less intense.

  But during that particular Rut, Dravka hadn’t wanted her anywhere near him. And she’d been hurt, wondering why. She’d started crying when he yelled at her to get out, all while straining against the chains on the bed.

  Desperation had crossed his face when he’d seen her tears.

  “Why do you want me to leave?” she asked him, kneeling beside the bed, frowning through her blurry vision. Khiva had told her to leave the door open, but she closed it regardless.

  He wasn’t fully naked. His chest was bare, but he wore thin pants that did nothing to shield the erection straining against the material. The whole front of him was wet, which had surprised her when she’d stepped inside. And there was a scent in the air that made her nipples tingle and her belly squeeze.

  “This one is bad, Val,” he growled. “If you stay…”

  All the while, his eyes had run over her. Running over her breasts, her waist, her hips, her legs. She felt his gaze like it’d been his fingers instead.

  It shocked her, his possessive gaze. He’d never looked at her like that before. She was only wearing a simple shift dress but the way his gaze heated made her feel like she was wearing nothing at all.

  He’s in his Rut, she reminded herself. He’d probably look at any female who stepped inside the same way. His control was already very thin.

  “It’s all right, Dravka,” Valerie soothed. “I’ll help you through this Rut.”

  For some reason, Dravka groaned at her words, his hips hitching slightly. Her brow furrowed, her lips parting, though she kept her gaze firmly on his face, ignoring the way heat bloomed between her thighs.

  “These look uncomfortable,” Valerie said, reaching up for the clasp of the chains.

  “Veki,” he snarled, panic morphing his features. Her hands froze. “Don’t touch them. Leave them.”

  “Why?” she asked, frowning.

  His jaw ticked, frustration evident on his features.

  “Because you’re in here,” he bit out.

  She frowned.

  None of the other Keriv’i males acted like this during their Ruts. Dravka’s had always been particularly intense but…she’d never thought it was because of her.

  “Me?” she asked, swallowing hard.

  “Don’t touch them,” he repeated again, sweat dotting his brow, “unless you want to know how females really help Keriv’i males through a Rut.”

  Shock made her freeze.

  Pain crossed his features.

  “Vauk, you need to leave. I can smell you,” he rasped.

  It felt like she was in a daze. Confused.

  “Do I smell bad?” she asked, embarrassed.

  A laugh burst from his throat and his gaze met hers. This Dravka was different. Intense and dark. Frustrated and impatient yet focused.

  “Veki, Val. You smell good.
Too good. That’s the problem,” he growled, all humor gone after his laugh. “And I really need to come soon or my taxxa might fucking explode.”

  Valerie’s lips parted, her ears ringing.

  “So I need to unchain myself and you cannot be in here when I do,” he finished.

  He was trying to scare her, Valerie realized. Even though her skin felt prickly and her spine tingled from his words—and his implication—she also didn’t like the pain on his face. She’d known that a Keriv’i male’s Rut could be painful…and this one seemed different.

  She didn’t know what possessed her to say it, but she whispered, “I can help you, Dravka.”

  The male froze, even as a trickle of sweat ran down his temple and onto the bed underneath him.

  Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest. Her cheeks were flushed—partly from embarrassment, partly from her arousal—and when she licked her dry lips, Dravka’s nostrils flared.

  “You can what?” he rasped.

  “I can help you,” she said again. “What do you want me to do?”

  Another groan escaped him, his back bowing when another wave hit him, his hips rolling. More moisture wetted the front of his pants. His pre-cum, she knew.

  “And what are you gonna do, Val?” Dravka purred when the wave left him panting. His brow furrowed, his eyes bleary with his need. “Are you gonna touch me? Talk to me? Are you gonna say filthy things in my ear to make me come?”

  Her mind swam. In some ways, this felt like a surreal dream. Like she’d landed in one of her numerous fantasies starring Dravka. But this was real, wasn’t it? They were in his darkened room in the Cluster. He was deep in a powerful Rut. In the morning, would he even remember this?

  He’d never spoken to her like this before. He’d never eye-fucked her the way he was doing right now. Was this how he was with his clients? This sensual and intense and roughened?

  Jealousy pierced her, just thinking about it.

  “I-If you want me to,” she whispered.

  His eyes flared to life and he licked his lips. When he tried to reach for her—making her heart lurch in excitement and fear—the chains rattled and he cursed.

  “What would you tell me?” he purred, keeping his voice low. Testing her? “Come closer and tell me something.”

  “What do you want me to tell you?” she asked. Her whole face felt like it was on fire and her hands were trembling when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Her hand touched his side, stroking his sweat-slicked skin there. He groaned, throwing his whole body into her touch.

  “Tell me,” he rasped, “about the last time you touched yourself.”

  Valerie’s breath hitched and she squeezed her thighs together. She was still kneeling next to the bed and she feared that there would be a wet spot at the back of her dress when she left.

  He wanted to know about the last time she’d masturbated?

  She swallowed. Was she really going to do this?

  Valerie licked her lips and Dravka’s pupils blew wide when he saw her pink tongue dart out.

  “I was in the bath,” she whispered to him.

  “When?” he groaned.

  “A few days ago,” she said, hardly able to keep his gaze, turning unbearably shy even though she’d offered to do this—she wanted to. “And the water was warm and it was dark and quiet.”

  She heard Dravka’s swallow. Another wave of the Rut hit him and he hissed out a curse, his back bowing from the bed again. When it was over, his breathing was ragged, but his eyes were rapt on her.

  “I always start at my breasts,” she told him, the heat in her belly beginning to spread to seemingly every inch of her body.

  “Pax?” Dravka rasped.

  “They’re sensitive,” she confessed, finding it easier to hold his gaze the more aroused she got, liking that he looked so eager to hear more. She felt her nipples pebbled tight against the material of her dress even now and when Dravka’s gaze dropped to them, another ragged groan escaped his throat. “I like to stroke my nipples.”

  “Vauk,” came his panting reply. His eyes seemed brighter in the darkness, glowing. “You like to tease them, mellkia?”

  Her belly clenched. “Yes,” she whispered. “I like to stroke and then pinch them. I touch them until I can’t take it anymore. Until I feel so hot that I’m throbbing.”

  His breathing was coming in thick pants, punctuated by sharp groans. His hips jerked every so often and when her eyes slid over the wet material of his trews, she saw the outline of his cock—thick and hard and pulsing.

  A desperate little sound escaped her throat, a sound she’d never heard before. She’d seen his cock before, uncovered and bare, of course. Nakedness was a fact of working there. She’d seen more Keriv’i cocks than she ever thought she would.

  But somehow, seeing just the outline of him was more erotic.

  “I can feel your eyes on it, Val,” he rasped.

  Her gaze slid back to his. Every part of her was throbbing. The ache in her sex was becoming almost unbearable. She imagined it was like what Keriv’i males felt during their Rut, though perhaps a little less intense.

  This sizzling want, this painful need. Was this what he felt? Right now?

  “I’m pretty sensitive. Down there,” she whispered, her eyes flickering to his lips. “It doesn’t take much at all.”

  “You like to play with your clit?”

  “Yes,” she said, swallowing, feeling that very part of her pounding between her thighs.

  “How?”

  “I-I make little circles around it. Gently. Until I’m shaking and moaning.”

  His hips were rolling almost constantly now, like he was trying to fuck the air. He groaned, frustrated, his brows furrowing, his nostrils flaring at her words.

  “Let me smell you. Come here,” he ordered.

  Smell her?

  She leaned forward until their faces were close. She turned her head so her lips were pressed to his ear—and then a gasp escaped her when he dragged his nose up the column of her neck, burying it in her hair.

  “And when I’m close,” she whispered in his ear, exhaling warm breath over it, letting him hear how turned on she was, “I stroke my clit harder. And I pinch my nipples with my other hand. And when I come—” His breaths were coming quicker, ragged and rough, “sometimes it feels too good and I moan. Sometimes I think that you’ll be able to hear me even from that floor.”

  “Val,” he bit out.

  Her lips brushed his ear. But her eyes were unfocused, recalling that pleasure, wanting to give him some of it. “And sometimes, I can keep coming. Sometimes, my orgasms go on for a long time. Sometimes, another comes after the first.”

  A rough sound escaped his throat, a short bellow following it. Her head turned to look down his body, her hair trailing over his chest.

  With parted lips and blooming heat, she watched his hips jerking, watched as the outline of his cock seemed to grow and expand…watched as a torrent of seed burst from his tip, soaking the material of his pants.

  The ejaculation was so hard that his cock lifted the band of his pants with every pulse, allowing his come to seep over and spurt across his hard abdomen, milky white against his dark blue skin.

  He came so hard, his seed shot all the way to his chest…and all the while, Dravka’s eyes never left her. She could feel his gaze burning into her as she watched, wide-eyed and aroused, as his teela, what the Keriv’i called their seed, covered him.

  Dravka groaned and twitched when his orgasm was done, falling limp and panting back to the bed.

  Silence stretched between them. Valerie met his eyes and she imagined that her own expression was one of shock and lust and…maybe even trepidation.

  “Val,” he breathed. Some of the intensity had left his gaze, that ultra-focused lust and desire.

  And suddenly, she realized what she’d done. What had just happened.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t listen to him sa
y that it was a mistake, that he was in the midst of a powerful Rut and that was why that moment had just happened.

  It had been the most erotic, mind-numbing moment of her life.

  But for Dravka?

  It may have meant nothing, especially in his state.

  “Feel better?” she asked, rising quickly from her kneeling place next to his bed. Her knees were trembling, her breaths coming out in quick, panicked pants.

  “Pax, but—”

  “Good,” she breathed. “I’ll go then.”

  She needed to flee.

  And before he could say another word, that was exactly what she did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dravka knew that Valerie was remembering the same thing he was.

  The Rut. The things she’d whispered into his ear, naughty things that had made him come in his pants just imagining them.

  He remembered that orgasm. Vauk, how could he not? It had been the most powerful one of his life and he hadn’t even touched himself. He’d come like a youth during his very first Rut, fucking the air with his hips, desperate for friction and touch.

  After that moment, he thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d given him the sign he’d been looking for all those years. That she was ready to take the next step with him.

  Only, she’d flown out of his room so fast, her face leached of color like she’d been horrified by what she’d witnessed.

  And afterwards?

  “You never brought it up,” he murmured to Valerie. She was still sitting in his lap—almost naked—in his bed, where that life-changing orgasm had happened. “I thought you wanted to forget it ever happened, so I didn’t say anything either. I feared…I feared that I had ruined everything. You barely looked at me for weeks.”

  Then Khiva left with Eve. And everything seemed to shift between them again.

  “I was surprised by what happened,” she murmured to him, that same flush still coloring her cheeks. “I was surprised by…how I acted, how you acted. I didn’t want to…”

  “Want to what?” he rasped.

  A look of desperation crossed her face, making him furrow his brow.

  “You’re my best friend, Dravka,” she told him. “Besides my mother, you’re the one being in my entire life that I ever allowed myself to get close to. To…to love.”

 

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