Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 205637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 823(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 823(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
He kept stroking my scales, sometimes with nails, sometimes with just pressure, fanning his breath on the mark, scraping his teeth over it. It was like toying with a clit, but so much better. The pleasure continued to build, compounded, until it was too much. Pleasantly, gloriously too much.
He bit down on my mark, and I shattered, screaming out wordlessly, coming apart at the seams. I felt like I was convulsing, shaking against him while clinging tightly. The orgasm lasted and lasted, Nyfain shuddering with me while still stroking my scales softly, lightly kissing his renewed mark.
My head lolled on his shoulder as we came down slowly. His heart beat frantically against my chest,.
“Unlike that horse-riding scenario, I think we can repeat that one,” he said with laughter in his voice.
“That was a scene in a book?”
“Actually, more of a how-to. It was a chapter on using the scales and mark together during sex. Good?”
“Yes. Very.”
He pushed to standing, holding me in his arms the whole time, his cock still buried within me.
“Very good,” I murmured, my lids getting heavy.
“I guess I’ll need to scour that book for more tips and tricks.”
I laughed. “Yes, please.”
His legs wobbled as he walked into the other room to his large bed before pulling back the covers. He slipped out, and I knew a moment of disappointment and loss before he slid into the covers and gathered me up beside him. I fit my head into the hollow between his chest and shoulder and felt my eyes droop, relishing in his strong arm around me and his heat and power thrumming within.
We stayed like that for a moment, lying together quietly, his thumb lightly tracing a path over and back across my shoulder.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he finally whispered. “All this time I’ve blamed myself for her death. For not being here to save her. For sixteen years I’ve been living with her ghost. I’ve been living with soul-crushing guilt. And the whole time she’s been alive?”
He stroked down the center of my back.
“My brain just doesn’t want to believe it,” he murmured. “While at the same time…”
“At the same time, you’re desperate to have her back,” I finished.
“Yes. Except…I saw the guilt in her eyes.” He shook his head. “And then there’s the way she came back. She hid herself. Hadriel told me she didn’t want any Wyverners going to her house in the village. She was keeping her situation a secret until she couldn’t anymore. Why? And, most importantly, what am I going to do if she was responsible for that curse? For my father’s last descent into madness?”
I grazed my fingertips across his chest. “We’ll find out soon enough. Whatever has to be done, I’ll stand by you. I’ll help.”
“If her aim is to position herself on the throne, you won’t be able to.”
FIVE
Finley
The next three days were a haze as I checked in with the kingdom and helped bring some order after the battle and the demon occupation. The living conditions in some of the villages were still atrocious. The village leaders had worked to help their poorer people through the sickness, like I’d insisted, but hadn’t done anything to improve their living conditions.
Nyfain insisted I stay by his side, dressed in my fine clothes and with my hair intricately done. He wanted to make sure the people knew my position, and also for me to see for myself the work that had to be done. We wanted our kingdom to be strong and prosperous, and he agreed with me that there was only one way to accomplish that: to focus on ensuring the wellbeing of its people. All its people. The wealth, such that it was, would need to be distributed more evenly.
That sentiment did not go over well with some of the village leaders, of course, who then quickly lost their roles. Nyfain would tolerate no animosity toward me. If people hated my common roots and sneered at my ideas because of it, they were thrown across the room in a fit of rage. It wasn’t altogether kingly but…well, learning curve.
Speaking of learning curves, I didn’t have one clue how I was supposed to act or what I was supposed to say. I included the wolves on what was typically dragon business, accidentally forgot to dress nicely or at all after flying, and told several pompous village leaders where they could stick their traditional views. Nyfain bore all of it with great patience, quietly letting me know when I’d made a faux pas and helping me determine whether to correct course or create a “new normal.”
Nyfain was creating just as many new normals. When visiting a village, he might pick up a broom and help an ailing woman sweep out her front room, something his father’s servants wouldn’t have dreamt of doing, let alone his father. Or he would lend his strength to someone trying to erect a stall in their little market. He’d been so far removed from these people for so long, doggedly going about his duty, that he enjoyed connecting with them now. It seemed like he wanted to be a bigger part of the people’s lives.