“But I like taking care of people,” she insisted, frowning at him.
“Too bad. That isn’t how this is going to work.” He used the tip of his claw to flick a lock of hair off of her cheek. “You’re my Chosen. I get to pamper you. It’s my right.”
Paloma arched a brow. “Your right?”
“Yes. It’s what a dragon does.”
“So it’s all about what I want?” Her eyes narrowed. “All the time?”
Artem gave her backside a tiny pinch. “Not all the time. It’s about what you need, too.”
“And how do you know what I need?”
He opened his mouth to inform her that, as her mate, he would figure such things out with or without her help, but never managed to get the words past his throat. While he was distracted, Paloma snuck her hand between their bodies to press her fingertips against the flat expanse of muscle above his cock.
Challenge glinted in her eyes when she asked, “Am I allowed to touch you if I need to?”
He struggled to control his breathing as the heat of her palm radiated downward, tantalizing him with what could be, if only she slid her fingers down a few more inches. “I…” Artem’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “If you want to touch me, you have my full permission. But I’m the one who gets to care for you.”
The air left his lungs in a wheeze as she lowered her hand to trace her thumb through the beads of pre-come sliding down his shaft. “Maybe this is what I need right now,” she challenged, stroking slowly. “Maybe I need to care for you, too.” Paloma tightened her hold and twisted upward, squeezing the flared head to emphasize her point.
Artem gasped and buried his face in her hair. “Paloma.”
“Yes?”
He curled his arm over her back to fist the hair at the base of her skull, trying to anchor himself as she stroked him with determination that made his toes curl. Gods, his little Chosen wasn’t experienced, but when she set her mind to something, she figured it out. He didn’t think he’d ever seen something as arousing as her singularly focused expression as she stroked him. For a moment, it was like he was the center of her whole world.
He wanted more of that look. He wanted more of everything.
The muscles of his abdomen flexed as everything in him began to draw up tight. He choked out a warning, but she didn’t slow down. Instead, his little mate threw a leg over his hip to draw him closer.
Guiding him to slide between her thighs, she used her hand to keep the pressure as she rocked her hips. They both groaned as his cock slid against her hot, wet skin, over her clitoris and back down again in a torturous rhythm.
Curling his tail around her midsection, Artem rocked his hips to meet her, desperately chasing the orgasm that continued to build and build and build. He quickened his pace when he felt her begin to stiffen. If she was so determined to bring him pleasure, he could be equally bullheaded.
The fact that she still came first made everything in his dragon soul glow with pride. She came first in all things. Any dragon would approve of that.
When he followed her over the edge a moment later, Artem saw stars. He clutched her as close as he dared, mindful even then of her fragile human bones, and let the waves of his orgasm crash over his tired body until there was nothing left of him.
“Oh, Artem,” he heard her breathe from far away. At some point he’d closed his eyes, but he couldn’t remember when. When he tried to open them to reassure her that he was fine — better than fine! — he found that he could not.
Exhaustion was sweeping him under again, he realized, annoyed by the inconvenience. Forcing the words out from between uncooperative lips, he said, “S’okay. Sleep now. Kiss you later.” He took in another lungful of her scent mingling with his before he added darkly, “Fix nest, too.”
“Okay.” Soft hands smoothed over his cheek and his shoulders, soothing him. “Okay. Just rest now.”
I don’t have much of a choice, he thought, drifting slowly from the best moment of his life.
* * *
Three days passed, and Paloma wasn’t entirely sure that Artem’s condition wasn’t made worse by their… interlude.
She chewed her thumbnail and stared at the nearly empty refrigerator. She was hyper-aware of the sleeping dragon in the living room just behind her. He’d woken up a few times since that morning, mostly to drag her in for a few drugging kisses and to watch her work until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Still, he was getting better. Every day he seemed to stay awake longer, and she felt like every time she dared to peek at him, he was a little bit bigger, his build less rangy and more healthy; his cheeks fuller, his muscles less rigidly defined.
Paloma took stock of her dwindling food supplies and tried to squelch the nervous butterflies that filled her belly at the thought that Artem might actually be able to spend time with her soon.
Paloma really couldn’t tell if she was excited or terrified by the prospect.