Page 66 of Thief of Souls
“Zemira, no.” He captures a fistful of my hair, forcing my hungry mouth away from his. “Let me knock you out,” he whispers, hands cupping my face. “At least until the drug is out of your system.”
“It hurts.”
“I know.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “Iknow.”
I don’t even care anymore whether this is real or not. “Make it stop hurting.” My hand slides down his abdomen. “I want this. I want you to fuck me—”
“No, you don’t.” He captures my hand. “Trust me.” His pupils are ringed with solid gold. I’ve never seen the dragon so close to the surface. “Let me make you sleep until this is over. I’ll watch over you, Zemira. I promise nothing will hurt you.”
I can barely breathe.
Instead I nuzzle into his throat, desperate for the touch of his skin upon mine. The ache between my thighs burns like acid. I need him.There. Inside me. I need this.
I need help.
“Please,” I gasp before my treacherous mouth can say anything else.
“As you wish,” he breathes, and then the world grows hazy around the edges and I collapse into his arms as darkness overwhelms me.
13
Idream of a dragon trailing his claws through my hair, and kissing his way down my throat.
“Mine,” he hisses, and then he thrusts inside me, sinking his teeth into my throat hard enough to bruise.
Then a gentle hand soothes my hair. “Sleep,” someone says. “Sleep and it will all be over. You’re safe.”
Safe. “I don’t think I even know what that word means,” I mumble.
The hand stills. Someone growls under their breath. “But you will, Zemira. You will. I will always protect you.”
I snuggle into warmth. I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting.
“I don’t want to be alone….” I whisper.
Maybe I’m imagining it, but there’s a soft sigh and warm hands lock around me. “Never,” he promises.
* * *
Wakingup feels like being hit square between the eyes by a hammer.
Light gleams through the curtains, my mouth tastes like something shit in it, and I feel like I wrestled a bear last night. Maybe I did. I vaguely recall Keir having to pin me to the bed, and not in an amorous manner. The sheer indignity makes me furious. It’s not enough that rapture steals all your wits and leaves you with nothing more than furious desire, but now I get the post-rapture headache.
And humiliation.
“Thirsty?” There’s a Keir-shaped blur sitting on the edge of the bed—well out of touching distance by the look of it.
A vague memory of me begging him for his cock chooses that moment to replay itself. I groan and roll onto my face, dragging the pillow over my head. “Go away.”
He laughs under his breath. “Ah. Safe to come closer then. Here. I have water. It will make you feel better.”
As much as I want to crawl under the blankets and hide, my tongue is cleaving to the roof of my mouth. I could drink the Burning River dry right now.
Coming out from under my pillow, I reach for the glass and gulp it down without looking at him.
“None of what happened last night is your fault.” Keir’s voice roughens. “I want you to know that.”
And there it is….
