Page 57 of Claimed By the Sinful Dragon
No.
But—
No,I repeated firmly, and then set my book aside with a sigh. Rook had said his dragon didn’t start speaking to him until after the war, and most dragons never spoke, so I couldn’t help wondering how I’d got so…lucky to have mine speaking to me from before I even shifted.
I believe it was the trauma that gave me a voice,she said, after a moment of contemplation.As it did for our mate.
Trauma? Like the trauma of you interrupting my reading three times this chapter?
She huffed, but settled to the back of my mind as I continued reading. She seemed to enjoy it as much as I did, apart from when she was obsessing over impressing Rook.I, on the other hand, was definitely not obsessing over him. Much.
The book was almost finished by the time I felt what was becoming a familiar restlessness, an almost anxious sensation in my chest that had me lifting my eyes to the skies.
Will it always be like this?I asked my dragon.Will my body always be so... obsessed with him? With where he is?
Perhaps.
Well, that was a helpful answer. Guess she didn’t have any more idea about this whole mate business than I did. Which, honestly, seemed a bit unfair, seeing as how she was the one who decided Rook was our mate.
You were attracted to him long before I awoke and pointed out the obvious,she said primly inside my mind. I scoffed.
Just because he was less of an asshole than every other man I’ve met doesn’t mean I was attracted to him.
No,she replied tartly,but the fact you couldn’t stop thinking about him was a clue. I would have thought your more... physical reactions would have been a clue, too.
Yeah, I really missed having my head to myself right about now. I closed the book—it wasn’t like either of us was focusing on it anymore anyway—and got to my feet just as Rook stepped out of the house.
I narrowed my eyes. Why was he coming after the house, and not flying over it? And why did he look quite so... smug? Not that said smugness wasn’t hot as all hell, but that was totally not the point. A smug Rook usually spelled trouble. For me. Not that I didn’t enjoy some of that trouble...
I shook my head and crossed the grounds to him. Before I could say a word, he caught my waist and pulled me against him. His lips claimed mine with a furious need, and for a moment I allowed him inside, tasting his need, his desire, his perfection.
Then I drew back.
He reached for me and I stepped back again. A low rumble of frustration slipped from between his lips.
“Oh no you don’t, you overgrown lizard. You don’t get to come in here after being away on some mysterious business tripwithout even telling me how long you’re going to be gone—” which was way longer than I thought otherwise I’d have objected more, “—and then growl at me when you don’t get your own way.”
He growled again and the sound did unholy things to me.
“Someone got a little big for her boots in my absence,” he said, his voice rough with need, and this time when he reached for me, my legs didn’t move. He pulled me against him again, and I felt his hardness jutting at me. I swallowed, heat pooling in my core at his nearness. Fuck, this man was hot.
And an asshole. Couldn’t forget that part.
But if he kissed me like that again I’d forget my own fucking name.
“Mine,” he growled against my lips.
“Yours,” I agreed, my voice little more than a breathy whisper. Fuck. I was in so much trouble.
He kissed me hard and slow ,and the combination turned my legs to jelly. Fuck, if he kept doing that, I was going to climb him like a tree ,and it was getting harder by the second to remember why I shouldn’t.
He is our mate. We should.
Not. Helping.
I will not help you with stupid decisions.
I groaned, half of the sound for her, half for him and the delicious, decadent, torturous way his tongue was playing mine. The whole world could burn down around us, and it wouldn’t be enough to make me break this kiss.
