Whelon was soft and comforting against her. When she peered up and saw his half-closed eyes as he swayed back and forth, she knew that holding her was reward enough for him. He was utterly content with this and nothing more. He desired her, but he would also wait until the end of time to satiate that desire if necessary.
The idea that he cared more about her feelings than his own release was a strange one to her. She couldn’t escape the feel that she somehow owed him sex just because their skin touched.
“The urge to claim you is so very strong, my Sasha,” he whispered, sensing her feelings as only a mate could. “But even the dragon would never touch you without consent. In fact, I think even the most beastly parts of me would hold back until you screamed ‘yes’ repeatedly and tore my clothes off, just to be sure.”
She reached up on her tip toes and kissed him gently. “That moment might not be too far away.” She giggled. “But why? Is it cultural? That you don’t display your desire to females?”
“Yes,” he answered, the single word rumbling deep in his chest. “We are taught from a young age to respect females and never use them as objects for our entertainment. Sex between mates is a sacred act. Seed should be kept for the purpose of creating dragonlets. I’ve learned all of this in my growing years. When you see no females… it simply enhances the idea that we must protect them, but…”
“Yes?”
“Once I found you, I knew I had never seen anything so beautiful. To coerce you, even gently, to make you feel guilty if you did not let me use your body—such a thing abhors me. I want you joyful.” He bent and kissed her. “I want you hot.” Another kiss. “I want you hungry.”
This kiss was far deeper, and Sasha felt as if she was being stroked from inside out. Somewhere deep within a great beast of her own awoke. She realized she had never fully embraced her own sexual power. Her mother had kept her far away from anything sexualized, and Sasha thought it had been simply for modesty’s sake. But she now realized it had been another form of control for her only parent.
Embracing her sexuality was a sure way of increasing her independence. The longer she looked, the more she recognized that her life had been a carefully constructed stage. She only had freedom while she moved between the wings. Beyond that, she was supposed to be a good-looking mannequin that didn’t speak or have thoughts of her own.
She hugged Whelon even tighter, knowing her life was going to utterly change. She still loved television and action and doubted she would ever leave, and a thrilling sensation flooded her as she realized she could finally do any piece she wanted and act on her own terms.
“I agree, we should get off the roof,” Whelon eventually said. “I want to see what’s going on downstairs.”
Hand-in-hand, they strode over to the roof access door. Or rather, what little remained of it after Whelon’s flames baked it to a crisp. They stepped over the remnants of the roof access, and Sasha took him down the steps she had ascended so painfully only a short time before. She could barely remember the pain—the agony—now. At the time she had been sure she would die for the aches, but she hadn’t truly understood the power of the bond.
They hurried down the hall to her apartment where Sasha threw on an outfit. She had no clothes that would truly fit Whelon, though she had a very large, baggy pair of overalls she sometimes wore to the soup kitchens and other charity organizations where she volunteered.
She peered at him strapped into the blue overalls and couldn’t stop giggling. “We need to get you a straw hat and a length of grass to chew.” She chuckled. He grinned, getting the joke and brushed his hands over his chest self-consciously. “What happens to your straps and stuff when you shift if you don’t strip first?”
“Well, when we know we are flying to a specific destination, we carry a small pouch with our clothing. For emergencies, we simply shift and destroy our clothing. Our katoth cross straps bear our rank and honors, but every Preor warrior keeps a few spares nicely tanned and ready to go.” He smiled. “You never know when you are going to have an emergency and must rush to save your mate.”
“Damn right.” She grasped his hand and led him to the elevator. Sasha had words for her mother and wanted to confront her, if she hadn’t bolted the second the meeting went down the drain.
When they arrived in the lobby, numerous police and Preor warriors were moving humans back and encouraging them to disperse. Anyone being violent was arrested and thrown into police vans. Sasha though her mother had disappeared for good when she suddenly saw the slender figure rising out of the crowd as she attempted to brain a Preor warrior over the head with a camera stand.
The poor puzzled Preor caught the makeshift weapon with ease and stared at Jenna as she desperately tried to bludgeon him with the tripod. He held the camera stand gently and looked around in alarm, unsure how to handle the female attacking him. “Can someone—I mean—what is this? What do I do with her? Lady, lady! Please cease.”
Jenna got the tripod free and tried swinging it again, and a cop hurried over and cuffed her, making the Preor sigh with relief. “Thank you, officer,” he offered. “The
