And the way her skirt rides up slightly, tempting me with what is waiting underneath. My shaft jerks, more pained now than before. There, I will dominate. There, I will rule.
Soon.
I lower myself to the ground and slide the dagger from her belt. She twists back to gaze at me angrily.
“You are right, female, I am not defeated,” I say. “But I will take this and remain so. You need it no longer.”
“Someday, dragon, you will realize that human women are nothing like the females of your kind. We do not have alphas. Take my dagger. You’re right. I don’t need it.”
She turns back around and settles.
And leaves me in silence with my angry thoughts.
13
Alpha’s Claim
Once again, something is tugging on my hair, but this time it hurts.
And I know who it is.
I stiffen. He must be behind me because I’m still facing the fire. I squint my eyes as they adjust, but only a little because the flames are already beginning to die. My throat tightens. Already? It frightens me. The fingers in my hair distract me though.
Something cool drenches my head, and I jerk, flinging my hand to protect my wound, but it’s caught in a firm grip before it can land on my head. “What’re you doing?” I twist to face Drazak.
His dark pupils reflect me and the flames. His scales twinkle a deep purple. “I am cleaning the wound. You will not touch it while I do.” He keeps my hand hostage. “Lie back down.”
Slowly, I do as he says. Part of me doesn’t want to get up anyway. I know I’ve been sleeping a lot, but I still feel exhausted. I’ve been hurt before, had long bouts of recovery, but it was nothing like this—like a slow-building sluggishness spreading throughout my body. Maybe it’s the cave or the darkness… Maybe it’s the bond or the wound. Maybe it’s none of those things or all. Regardless, I bring my hands up and rest them under my chin and cheek.
Drazak’s fingers return to my hair, combing through it with his claws. Sometimes more water is added, and sometimes there’s a spike of pain, more than the usual throbbing, but overall, it’s soothing and threatens to lull me back to sleep. For a time, I can forget everything. He doesn’t know it, but it’s the best gift he could give me.
My skin prickles from his ministrations, and I bring my knees into my body. Pleasure blooms. A sneaky, comforting pleasure right in the core of me. I can feel myself becoming wet, and it only worsens when he runs his nails over the top of my scalp.
I moan into my hand, unable to help myself.
His fingers stop moving, and I could cry from their loss. “Don’t stop,” I beg.
He goes right back to it. He starts again with my scalp, avoiding my wound, and ventures to the hidden skin behind my ears. He rubs it so softly it almost tickles, before trailing my hairline with the pad of his fingers. The tips of his nails graze my neck several times.
He doesn’t know it, but he’s stoking a heat within me. The heat I’ve been denying since I first touched him. I curl my legs harder into me.
His nails leave my neck, and I whimper in protest, but his hands gather my hair, making sure it’s loose enough that it doesn’t tug where I’m hurt. He undoes the last of my braids and brushes my strands. When I think he’s done, when he has piled all my hair up by my head, I force myself to rise.
His hand presses down on my shoulder. “Not yet. I am not done.”
My heart thumps. I’ve never been taken care of like this. It’s self-indulgent to allow him to continue. I don’t know if I can take much more without melting into a puddle.
But I lie back anyway, remembering how we left things off earlier.
I don’t want to argue anymore.
I’m weary. Everything is darkness around me, except him. I don’t know if I could’ve stayed sane if I was trapped here alone not knowing what happened to… My fingers twitch.
Drazak gives me hope, and though we have a lot to learn about each other still, he gives me comfort.
Maybe it would be okay if I let him take care of things for a while…
I trust him, I realize. I don’t know why, but I’m certain he would never hurt me. Maybe it’s the bond, or maybe it’s him alone, but my soul recognizes his—as if we’ve always known each other. Though I’m sure we’ve only been trapped a handful of days.
His hand leaves my shoulder, the other leaves my hair, and they cup the back of my neck. I stare into the fire hard because his hands don’t stay put, they move down my sides, sliding the ties of my shirt off. The cloth sags in my front, and I suck in my stomach, pressing my arms to my chest. His hands skim down my body to slip off my sandals.
I wiggle my toes when they’re free.
I trust him. The thought blooms inside me, giving me butterflies.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he tugs on my shirt.
“Feeling you. Feeling what is mine.”
My butterflies dance. “Yours…” I murmur.
His hands work themselves under my shirt to spread across my back. “You are soft, human, so very soft. I have never felt such softness before. Dragons… we do not have hands like you do. How much of the world have we missed, not being able to experience such pleasure?”
I don’t know. I can’t answer him because his hands are kneading into my back and his nails wreak havoc
