Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Not my Em-mah, though. She is not for eating. She is for me to cherish and protect.
Her cunt tightens around my length, and I hiss, pushing up to meet her movements. It feels too good, and I know my body, starved for her, will not last long. Not for this first mating. I need her to lean in so I can claim her throat and give her the kiss of fire that will bond us. I need to share my spirit with her. But as she continues to ride me, bringing both of us closer to release, I start to worry.
Why does she not give me her throat?
My release boils through my body, full of churning need, but I fight it back. It takes every bit of my strength not to spill inside her. Not to claim her as mine. I cannot. If she is not my mate, if she has not accepted my fires, my release will scorch her from within. I snap my teeth at her, indicating that she should give me her throat, but she does not understand.
I tear at my bonds, flexing. Frustration threatens to overwhelm me even as her cunt grips me tightly, demanding that I claim her as mine. Her scent is all around me, so thick and delicious that my mouth waters. I want to taste her heat. I want to taste all of her—but I must claim her.
I must.
I cannot spill until I do.
I snap my teeth at her again, frantic. I am so close to release, but I must fight it, like I fight the killing urges that threaten to overwhelm my thoughts. I begin to despair, wondering if Em-mah is here to torture me instead of mate with me. Is this what the humans have planned? To show me my mate and not let me claim her?
But then she touches her throat, a question in her eyes, and I want to snarl with joy. Yes! Her throat!
She looks frightened of the thought, and that fills me with the fierce need to protect, to reassure. I would never harm her. I wish to only give her my fires, but she is not drakoni. Perhaps these smelly ones mate in a different way. I snap my teeth at her again and show my throat, encouraging her.
My Em-mah hesitates, and then leans in, giving me her throat.
Mine.
With ecstatic swiftness, my fangs elongate. I sink them into her soft throat, careful not to harm her more than I must. I can feel her stiffen against me, feel her body go tight as I release my fires into her. I pour everything I have into my mate’s throat, full of joy and pride that I am claiming her. Em-mah will be mine. Our minds will link and even in this awful place that I am trapped in, she will give me joy.
She quivers against me, trembling, and I want to reassure her. I touch my thoughts to hers, but there is no answering response. Not yet. I must be patient. Until then, I silently command her to remain still so I do not tear at her soft skin. My fangs remain locked inside her, and I wait the endless moments until they recede. I lick the wound I have created on her throat, regretting the harm I have caused her. My Em-mah. She tastes sweet, different from anything I had expected.
I want to keep licking her throat, tasting her skin, but she lifts her head and pulls away from me, touching her neck. I send more thoughts to her mind, but she is still closed to me. Impatient, I flex my arms again against my restraints. I want her to free me. I want to touch her.
More than anything, I want to bear her to the floor and claim her properly, as a drakoni claims his mate. Now she has taken my fires, and I can give her my seed.
She gives a tentative rock of her hips against mine, a question in her eyes. Do we still continue? I thrust up against her, pushing hard. I want her release. I want to see her come before I claim my own. But then her cunt tightens around me, and she starts to touch herself again, and I feel her walls clasping my cock tight.
A snarl breaks from my throat. I want to release…but I want her to come first. She must. She—
“Zohr,” she says softly, my name on her tongue, and touches her throat again, where I dug my teeth deep and claimed her as my own.
It is too much. I can hold back no longer. With a roar, I spill my release into her soft body, giving her my seed. It pours from me, despite our strange position, despite the fact she is not under me, and—