Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
He touches me as if he’s exploring and my heart races all the while. A dragon. A real-life dragon. He lowers his head to the crook of my neck and whispers at the shell of my ear, “I’m going to take care of you.”
I’ve never been so filled with want. His hot breath and the bite from the flames have a hint of pain as he licks down my back, but more than that it heats a low flame in my core. I bury my head and deny the feeling.
A deep rumble stirs in his chest and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Desire surges deep in my core.
As I contemplate what degrading things he must be planning for me, my body betrays me and arousal pools between my thighs. My cheeks flame with embarrassment, but he makes no acknowledgment of my body’s reaction.
His hand travels lower as he takes long languid licks. His fingers move across the curve of my backside and down my inner thigh. The tips of his fingers are so close to my entrance. I almost curve my back, offering myself, and I have no idea who I’ve become. It takes everything in me to be still. To resist this man. To hell with my treacherous body.
Much to my disappointment, his hand travels farther down my leg as he pulls away from me. I immediately miss the heat. I’ve never been touched like this and the thought of him using me, I’m ashamed to say, it turns me on.
It’s then when he pulls away that I realize these feelings I have at the moment are very much one-sided. His fingers travel down my back and along my spine. I know he’s feeling how frail I am. I’m far too thin and weak.
“Who did this to you?”
I swallow thickly. “I did.” His hand stills and then leaves me. A chill runs along my back.
“Why?”
It’s difficult to speak as the memories come back to me, but I push words out. “It’s a long story.”
As the mattress dips with his weight, he huffs a humorless laugh. I half expect him to scold me, push for more, or to tell me how disappointed he is that I’ve ruined myself. Instead, he lays next to me and continues to kiss and lick my back, leaving trails of goosebumps as his heat leaves my sensitized skin. His touch is as if I’m lying in the sun. He is nothing but warmth and sunshine on the most beautiful of days. That’s what it’s like to be touched by him, and I find myself craving it until I realize it is only the magic that makes it feel so. It’s not real.
My eyes open wider as I wish he could heal me without the need to be so physical. I turn my head to look at him, but his large hand comes down on my back and pushes me back down. “Stay. I’m not done.” I do as I’m told, facing away from him and closing my mouth. Fine. I don’t need to look at him anyway. It’s probably better this way. “Now tell me why.”
I should have known he would press. He doesn’t strike me as a man who will allow privacy, even in the most vulnerable of ways. I swallow and breathe in deeply. “Because they wanted to drain me like they did the others.”
His ministrations pause as he states more forcefully, “I don’t understand. Start at the beginning.”
The memories flash before me, and I hardly flinch this time. “The vampires took me. A few days ago, maybe a week.” I lick my lips trying to remember, but the days blended while being locked in that dungeon. “I was with my friend, searching for our neighbors that’d gone missing.”
I remember telling her it was a fool’s errand, and she told me so was staying and waiting. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. We both knew we were going to die either way. “It was just a matter of finding them. And we did.”
“You must know that was a foolish thing to do.” If I could laugh at the situation I would, but knowing what happened, any sense of humor evades me.
“Well it was that or wait around to be the next victim.” There’s a moment of tense silence before he kisses my neck, and I wonder for a moment if that was to heal a mark or simply to heal the unseen pain.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I whisper and push down the lump growing in my throat. “They killed her and took me.” His movements stop and he pulls my back into his hard chest.
“I’m sorry. I really am.” He kisses my neck and his compassion nearly has me in tears. But there’s no point in crying. I’ll survive.