All those sharp teeth pressed against my vulnerable skin. His tongue on me…in me.
Once again, my body takes over, but this time my mind is fully on board with the idea. I drag off the dress and flop back onto the bed. There were no underthings in the clothing Aldis provided, so there’s nothing in the way of my questing fingers as I slide my hand down my stomach and spread my legs.
I’m so wet. God, I can’t believe how turned on I am.
And…two cocks.
I press two fingers into my pussy. Better to focus on the fantasy, because surely reality can’t be as good as my mind insists. I didn’t like any kind of sex with Ethan. There’s no reason to believe it would be different with Sol. It’s just pretend, though, and nothing can hurt in my mind.
The temptation to push through, to make this quick and furtive, nearly overwhelms me. I didn’t masturbate often up to this point, because I was always aware that if I were caught, it wouldn’t go well for me. That kind of thing puts a damper on pleasure, at least for me.
But if Sol caught me?
If he walked through the door right now and saw me with my hand between my legs? What would he do? Take it as an invitation? Or maybe he’d sit in that chair right there and watch.
He’s so controlled. Even knowing him such a short time, I recognize that. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to actually invite him to touch me, but this is just fantasy. In my mind, he comes to stand at the edge of the bed. To press one of those big knees to the mattress and lean over me. To…
I pick up my pace. My orgasm is too close to stop, too strong to do anything but ride out with a low moan that I don’t even think to muffle. I whimper and jerk my fingers away from my clit. Now is when the shame will come, ruining the afterglow.
Except…it doesn’t.
I stare at the ceiling as my racing heart finally slows and the languid pleasure of my orgasm makes my eyelids heavy. Maybe things are different here, after all. At least in this. I pull the blankets around me and roll over to settle into bed.
I can admit—if only to myself—that I wouldn’t have minded so much if that fantasy had played out in reality.
Chapter 9
Sol
I brace my hands against the wall and press my forehead to the door. The steadiness of stone and wood ground me even as desire beats a drum through my blood. I can scent Briar’s desire, her need. I flick my tongue into the air, tasting the way she’s drenched the sheets with her orgasm. My hearing isn’t as acute as some of the other species in this realm, but Briar’s little whimper of release will be imprinted on my soul for the rest of my days.
I came to apologize. I was too harsh with her. She’s coming out of a traumatic event and she doesn’t know me. Instead of encouraging her fledgling curiosity, I scared her. More, she doesn’t know this world, and she’s been cut adrift from anything tethering her to her home realm.
Is it any wonder she’s doing what it takes to survive? To ensure her safety?
But every word she spoke, how easily she dismissed her own pain and experiences… It grates on me. I can’t claim to know her. The knowing of a person takes a lifetime, and even then, there will be depths left to plumb. A few short days of playing the coward and ignoring her had done little to bridge the gap between us.
Perhaps that’s what she’s attempting, in her own way.
I force myself to push back from the wall and walk away from the door. It’s a good sign that I didn’t traumatize her with my harsh words. Obviously her interest in sex isn’t completely feigned, but there is her history to consider. Mainly, that I need to know it.
Azazel has that information. It irks me to go begging to him for scraps of details about Briar, but at this juncture, I need all the help I can get. Harm isn’t only in the domain of the physical, and the demon is too savvy not to have taken that into account. I should have remembered than when I spoke so rashly in the library.
I could lose my territory because I let Briar’s recklessness guide us. I don’t wish to harm the woman.
Aldis is waiting for me as I descend the stairs. I eye her. “I have somewhere to be.”
“You do, cousin. Several letters have come in for you, and they are of the utmost importance. Also, the paperwork you’ve been avoiding for days.” Her eyes shine merrily. There is nothing my cousin loves more than paperwork; it’s why I gave her the position of scribe to begin with. We dragons don’t bother with a formal court. Most of us are territorial and have long memories, and it’s easier to confine correspondence to the written word and let everyone stay in their own territories within our land.