Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
My cocks descend and I do not fight it.
I grab one in each of my hands and I jerk them roughly to completion, imagining I had ripped off those paltry panties of hers and borne her down to the floor.
She would have opened her legs wide and gladly, as all Draci female did for one of my station, and purred her pleasure as I thrust into her.
Except even as I imagine it, I know it would not be as it was with other females. No others ever caressed my wings so. She cleansed me, her enemy. Yet she did it with such earnest kindness. And she had climbed into my bed and allowed me to hold her to quiet my nightmares.
I remember her warmth in my arms, the strange softness where I expected hardness and scales, kindness where I expected cruelty and manipulation.
Sifting her strange silken fur between my fingers as she slept, her chest rising and falling in my arms—
I spend myself upon the wall, first one cock and then another, captivated by the scent and memory of my captive.
Fourteen
GISELLE
First is strange after the shower. He smells better, that’s for sure. But he didn’t smell horrible before exactly. It wasn’t terrible sleeping with him last night or anything. We both woke up sweaty, yeah. He was just so overpoweringly male. I’m not used to being in such a small space with a presence so large and so—
He emerges from the shower as big and naked as ever. I avert my eyes from his groin area as I most often try to do, but thankfully, they were put away.
He frowns at me. “What have you covered yourself with now?”
I look down at myself. “I looked through the dresser drawers and found this.” I found some ill-fitting men’s jeans that are being held up with a belt. I had to bore an extra hole through the belt to fit my waist. An oversized t-shirt that comes down to mid-thigh completes my outfit.
“I do not like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Good thing making you happy is not my number one goal in life.”
He glowers further at this. “I will go get my healing device, and then we will discuss this further.”
I scoff. “Are you kidding? I’m never gonna want to sign up as your slave, buddy.”
He stalks toward me. “I am not asking for a slave. I am asking for a mate. You could be first among all the females of your race. Do you not want that?”
“Unlike some, I’m not obsessed with being first. Besides, my best friend is already first among the females or whatever, and that’s nothing I’d ever take away from her. You seem to forget that to go along with you, I’d have to betray my friends. I would never, ever do that. They’re my family. I don’t betray family.”
I don’t hear the words until they are out of my mouth, but I see in his eyes that I have said the wrong thing.
His face goes dark and he storms past me through the living room and then shoves out the front door without saying a word.
Oh crap. Right. I remember now. Shak told me about how First was supposed to kill him, but then First told the truth about his own mother and how she’d killed their father… Which resulted in her capture, and later, her death.
“Wait, First, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—” I start, heading out the door after him.
Just in time to see him trying to expand his wings outward and stumbling in pain when the left one doesn’t fully extend. The fractures that I felt in the shower are now painfully apparent as he attempts to extend the wing.
“Stop it! First, stop it or you’ll hurt yourself worse!”
Did he stop? No, of course the stubborn fool doesn’t. He simply keeps on trying to flap his obviously broken wing. But while the right wing makes the normal whoosh whoosh noise, the left one crinkles and won’t extend, and every time he tries to flap it, his entire body shudders in pain.
“Stop it!” I cry again, again to no avail.
First manages to get a few feet off the ground with his next few wing flutters, but then he collapses hard to the ground on his knees, back arched in obvious agony.
I start to go toward him but he holds up a hand. “Don’t come near me.”
I stop where I am, unsure of what to do next.
“Leave me,” he barks. “Go back in the house.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Let me help you.”
“I said go!” he roars, so hard that flame escapes his mouth and scorches a little patch of earth until it turns black.
“Fine!” I finally yell and stomp back into the house.
He’s so infuriating. He’s a big, infuriating, seven-foot tall baby is what he is.