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)
I suck in a deep breath, clinging to him, my forehead pressed to his. That…escalated quickly. "Jurik," I whisper.
"Ks," he says again, his hand stroking me in my most sensitive place, as if he's reluctant to let me go. I squirm out of his grasp, trying to move to the shore. I need to think. Need to compose my thoughts.
He grabs my wrist and tugs me back down against him, and then my back is pressed to his front, and the hard length of his erection presses against my backside.
"Ks," Jurik says again, and begins to press his mouth, hot and hungry, against my neck.
Oh lord, I've created a monster. I shiver, moaning as he continues his onslaught. He thrusts against my backside, and the sensation is as thrilling as it is startling. He pushes my thighs apart, settling his cock between my spread legs and lightly thrusting again, and I realize he has no intention of stopping now that I’ve come.
He wants to claim me.
I panic. I’m not sure I’m ready to do this yet. I plunge forward in the water, slipping out of his grasp, and head for the shore.
“Ruh-chul?” Jurik asks, a few steps behind me. “Ks?”
“I need a moment,” I tell him shakily. I need to get my head on straight. I need to figure out what it is I want, because he’s going to get tired of being patient and start taking what he thinks is his.
And he thinks I’m his.
I scramble onto the shore, racing for my pack. Jurik is a few steps behind me, a frown on his stubborn features. He saunters toward me, a hand outstretched in silent invitation. His cock is erect and utterly enormous, though, and that makes me pause.
“I need a moment,” I tell him again, not taking his hand. “I need—”
A shadow falls overhead. At first, I think it’s nothing but a bird flying through the sky, but when Jurik stiffens and his eyes go black, I realize something is very, very wrong. I look up, and sure enough, there’s a dragon, golden scales gleaming as he flies high overhead.
Oh shit.
“Jurik,” I call out. “No.”
His shoulders hunch, and his teeth bare in a snarl. I can tell his attention isn’t on me at all, though. His focus is entirely on the dragon that flies overhead.
I panic. Something tells me that if he launches himself into the air, I’m going to lose him. I’ll be stranded here alone, with no clothing, and no way to get back to Fort Dallas.
So I do the only thing I can think of—I reach out and grab his arm.
Those black eyes blaze into me. His body shudders, and he tries to release my hand, no doubt wanting to transform, but I don’t let go. I dig my fingers in, holding on to his wrist.
“Stay with me,” I beg him. “Please. Stay right here. Don’t go.”
24
JURIK
There is an interloper. An intruder.
Another seeks to take my mate.
I hiss up at the sight of the male flying leisurely through the skies. He is high enough that I cannot see his expression or smell him, but there is no mistaking that glint of gold on scale. With a furious blast, I send my thoughts to his, challenging him.
When I reach out to my mate, there is nothing. Trying to connect with her is like trying to connect to a rock. But when I reach out to this drakoni male, it is different. I can feel his mind…but he is utterly lost to the madness. There is no realization of a mate-able female below, or of my presence. He is lost in the colors and sound, his mind empty. There is no name, no nothing. Just…emptiness.
Even so, instinct tells me that I must attack him. I must protect my mate. I must prove to her that I can stave off all challengers. That I am strong enough to claim her and keep her.
“Jurik,” my mate calls out, and says one of her nonsense words. She grabs onto my wrist, her fingers tight, and I try to shrug her grip free. I cannot transform to battle-form with her hand on me; I do not want to harm her.
She will not let me go, though. No matter how many times I try to gently break free from her grip, she will not release me. She does not want me to fly off. She does not want me to defend her. Instead, she says my name in a soft voice and watches me with a worried gaze.
I do not know what to make of this female. I do not understand her.
The rival male drifts away, lost in his thoughts, and still my female does not let me go. I pull her close, burying my face in her wet hair, and she strokes her hand down my back. Frustrated, I try to connect my mind to hers again.