“That’s not fair.” She frowns for a moment, but then steps toward me, her small hand tracing down her belly toward her cleft. “I’ve made my decision. I want to have sex one last time.” Her fingers slip between her legs.
“Thrixing slag!” Scooping her into my arms, I kiss her, crushing our bodies together with no concern that the buckles and bindings on my riding livery are digging into her naked flesh.
How can I be so weak? Thwarted by such a young woman.
Struggling, I pull my lips away. And press my forehead against hers. “One last time.” I pant. “No one can know. And this will never,everhappen again. Do you understand?”
She nods against my forehead.
I lift her naked body into my arms, and taking three long strides, I toss her onto her bed and release my throbbing rod from its confines in record time. I long to feel her skin against mine, but my need is too urgent to disrobe any part of me beyond my cock.
Grasping my throbbing weapon, I hiss at the contact against my hand. Quickly, I mount the bed and use my knees to spread her legs wide. I should check to be certain she’s ready. I shouldfondle her with my fingers and stretch her wide before stabbing her with my thick cock.
I don’t do any of the things that I should. I’m far beyond ‘shoulds.’
Ramming forward, I plow into her, forcing in half of my thick length. The evidence of my abrupt intrusion is reflected in her expression. I hurt her. Shocked her at the very least. She’s wet, but so tight, so inexperienced, and likely sore from last night. Feeling a stab of guilt, I grit my teeth and pull back slightly, vowing to ease myself into her more gently.
But her hands rise to take my face in her hands, and the look in her eyes nearly breaks me in two. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”
Her hips rise to meet my next thrust, and the deeper impact shows in her eyes, in her sharp exhale of breath, in the pink rising to adorn her cheeks.
“If this is our last time.” She swivels her hips in small circles as I work myself deeper. “I want it to be good. I don’t want it to be…bland for you.”
“No chance of that.” My hips draw back and slam forward of their own accord.
At the impact, her head tips back, and her body arches off the mattress. But when she looks into my eyes, she’s still eager for more, eager to absorb whatever I give her.
Fighting to control my pace, to control even a single thing, I lean over her as I plunge into her sweet warm depths and gaze into her beautiful eyes. I found Rosomon comely the first time I saw her—all dusty and disheveled from her wild ride on that stallion—but her beauty grows each time I look at her, each moment we spend together. Even during the moments that we spend apart.
I squeeze my lips tightly together to keep from blurting all these things and the many others I feel in my heart. I am lost. Fully captured by this young woman, but I don’t dare tell her. I shouldn’t even admit it to myself. Because after today, I must ignore her for however many days of life she has left.
Whereas I’ve fallen deeply in love with this young woman, her interest in me doesn’t go beyond what I can make her feel between her legs. I know that. And even if our circumstances were different, even if her feelings might grow in time, declaring my love would be senseless and cruel. It would offer her hope.
Moving slowly so I can last longer, I drive into her sweetness. Her hands drop from my face to my shoulders, and she wraps her surprisingly strong legs around me, urging me on as if I’m a stallion. Each time I thrust, her body slides against the mattress and her eyes react to the impact.
Her initial pain has turned to clear pleasure. Her cheeks are fully red now, her skin glowing. But instead of satisfying my desperate urges, this act has made my need stronger.
This can’t be our last time. My heart will be crushed if I can’t change her stubborn mind. My heart will tear open if I have to look at her every day at camp, watching, unable to do a thing as she risks her life.
“Thank you,” she says on a breathy exhale. “Thank you for giving this to me one last time.”
Our gazes connect, and my heart skips a beat. Sanity creeps back in.
The consequence of what we are doing, what I am doing, clarifies. This is a mistake. This tender, erotic act is only heightening my need for her, and based on the look in her eyes and her words of gratitude, we willbothwant to do this again. We won’t be able to look at each other without thoughts of this. Everyone will see the truth in our eyes.
Starting tomorrow at dawn, if she continues her stubborn determination to stay here at camp, we will face each other each day she remains alive. Carrying out my duties as her teacher, I’ll be forced to put her life in peril and watch as my fellow dragon masters do the same.
How can we share the same air without revealing the truth to everyone present? And if she’s distracted by me, it might put her in more danger. I must break what’s happening between us. I must crush every last bit of her desire for me.
Nothing could ever change how I feel about her, but I must change how she feels about me.
I’m experienced enough to disguise my emotions, but lust and longing will shine in her young eyes each time she sees me. Yes. I must make Rosomon hate me. That is the only answer.
Words haven’t worked, so actions must take their place. It’s better if she hates me. I must fuel her anger that began when we argued last night in my tent. It will break my heart, but I must ensure that sheneverwants me again.
Pulling out, I flip her onto her belly.
Planting my feet on the floor, I tug her to the side of the bed, letting her legs flop over its edge. She glances over her shoulder in surprise, but also clearly aroused by my show of power.