Page 17 of Daring the Drakarn Warrior Lord
"We're talking about it now."
"No. We're not." I found the sensitive spot just below her ear and traced it with my tongue. Felt her shiver. Felt the tensionin her spine shift from anger to something else entirely. "Right now, I'm going to distract you."
"I don't need to be distracted."
"Yes, you do." I moved my hands up her sides, slow and intentional, feeling the way her breathing changed when I reached her ribs. "You're wound tight enough to snap. Whatever happened, whatever you're not telling me, it's eating at you. So let me take your mind off it."
"That's not how this works."
"Of course it is." I turned her in my arms until she faced me, until I could see her eyes. "You're my mate. Your pain is mine. And if I can ease it, even temporarily, I will."
She opened her mouth to argue. I kissed her before she could.
The taste of her flooded my senses. Sweet. Soft. Everything opposite to the violence and stone and heat that defined my world. I gentled the kiss, kept it slow despite the urgency burning through my veins.
It wasn't about claiming or possessing.
It was about comfort. Connection. Reminding her that whatever had happened, whatever she was facing, she didn't face it alone.
She resisted for maybe three seconds. Then she melted into me with a sound that made my chest ache.
I took my time undressing her. My claws traced patterns on her skin as I exposed it, careful not to scratch, just to feel. The contrast between her softness and my scales never failed to undo something in me. She was so breakable. So fragile. And yet she'd survived everything this world had thrown at her.
She was stronger than anyone believed.
I picked her up and carried her to the center of the room, laying her back on our sleeping platform, the silks soft beneathher. The heat crystals cast her skin in warm light, made her hair look like flame against the dark material.
My cock twitched with want.
I covered her body with mine, careful of my weight, and kissed her again. Deeper this time. Tasting her thoroughly, loving the sounds she made when I found the spots that made her gasp. Her hands came up to grip my shoulders, nails digging in, and I growled my approval against her mouth.
"Darrokar." My name on her lips was a prayer. A plea.
"I have you,luvae." I moved down her body, trailing kisses along her throat, her collarbone, the soft skin between her breasts. "Let me take care of you."
I worshipped her with my mouth. Every inch of skin. Every curve and hollow. I learned the places that made her arch, the touches that made her whimper. My tail wound around her thigh, holding her open for me, and when I finally put my mouth on her pussy, she cried out loud enough to echo off the stone walls.
I took my time there too. Used my tongue, my lips, the careful edge of my fangs to drive her higher. Licked through her folds, circled her clit, tasted how wet she was for me.
She tasted like salt and sweetness and desperation. Her hands fisted in my hair, holding me against her cunt, and I felt the moment she stopped thinking and surrendered completely to sensation.
When she came, it was with my name on her lips and her body trembling beneath my hands.
I gentled her through it, soft kisses and careful touches, until her breathing steadied. Then I moved back up her body and positioned myself between her thighs. The head of my cock pressed against her entrance, already slick from my body's natural preparation and her own wetness.
"Look at me," I said.
She did. Those green eyes met mine, hazy with pleasure but focused. Present.
I pushed in slowly. Watched her face as I filled her, as her sex stretched to accommodate me. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, but I kept my movements controlled. It wasn't about taking. It was about giving. About showing her without words what she meant to me.
My length dragged against her inner walls, and the flexible tip curled to stroke the spots I'd learned drove her wild. She gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. The small pain only heightened the pleasure.
I set a rhythm. Slow. Deep. Each thrust intentional, designed to build her pleasure gradually instead of rushing toward the peak. My cock filled her completely, stretched her around me until I could feel every clench of her inner muscles. My tail wrapped around her leg, holding her steady, while my hands framed her face. I wanted to see every expression, every flicker of pleasure that crossed her features.
"You're mine," I said, the words falling from me without conscious thought. "Nothing changes that. Not tradition, not politics, not the opinions of fools who can't see your worth."
She opened her mouth to respond, but I angled my hips and hit the spot that made her lose her words. She arched beneath me with a cry that went straight to my cock.
