Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
She smiles at me, her perfume that of curiosity and a hint of arousal. It is an intoxicating scent, and I realize I must go carefully with her. She smells strongest of arousal when I am cautious and take my time. If I just grab her, she will be awash in her fear scent.
My plans to snatch her to my nest and never let her go change in an instant.
Thinking feels different in my two-legged form, I realize, as I stroke the hand on my chest. My thoughts are clearer, sharper, and I do not need to rely on the bright, shining lights of Luminoura and Sallavatri to push away the darkness that threatens. There is no darkness right now, not with my Ruh-chul looking at me with such curious eyes and so close I can practically taste her.
I want to taste her.
I salivate at the thought. My tongue should be pressed up against her pretty throat right now, licking at her pulse spots and drinking in her taste as well as her scent. But she is as skittish as prey, so I must go carefully or she will run away again.
She babbles more sounds at me, her lips moving in that constant stream of noises. As she does, I touch her, watching her reactions to see how she handles it. I cannot be around her and not touch her; she is my mate. She is mine. So I move closer, reaching out and caressing her woven hair. Her strands are far softer than mine, and it reminds me that mine itches and makes my neck hot. It has grown long—far longer than I am used to—and I want to shear it from my scalp. That can wait, though. I lean close again, unable to resist brushing my nose against her jaw, and she jumps, a little spurt of laughter escaping her.
Her happy sounds charm me. I want more of them.
Testing, daring, I brush my tongue against the delicate bones of her jaw. She goes still against me, her breath huffing, and then more arousal floods her scent. She does not tear away, which pleases me. I think she is getting used to my touch…which means I can do more. If we cannot connect our minds, I must explore her with my other senses.
“Ruh-chul,” I murmur, sliding my claws into the thick tangle of her hair. It is softer than anything I have ever felt, the strands moving through my fingers like water, the color a warm shade of brown that is unfamiliar to me. I nuzzle along her jaw, moving toward her ear as I hold her against me.
She makes a soft choking sound, her fingers curling against my chest as if she needs support. I loop my other arm around her waist, holding her against me as I trace her small ear with my tongue, learning it. I like holding her like this, I decide. My chest is pressed against hers, and I can feel her breasts pushing against me, can feel the quick thrumming of her nervous heart in her chest.
And Ruh-chul whimpers when my teeth scrape over her earlobe.
I growl my pleasure at her reaction, unable to remain silent. My mate is in my arms, my mouth on her skin, and there is no greater joy. I learn the small shell of her ear with my tongue, learning that her scars go even to here, one ending just above her ear and disappearing into her hairline. I want to taste her all over, I decide, and tug at the layers of coverings she has over her chest. The thin material snags under my claws and small discs go flying, her layers revealing more skin. Good. I want to drown in her scent, bathe in it.
I want to give her my fires and claim her as mine so no one will ever touch her again.
She makes a startled little noise and babbles more sounds at me, sliding out of my grasp.
I let out a growl of frustration and crouch, watching as she skitters a few feet away, grasping the front of her strange coverings. Her oddly-colored skin is revealed now, and my mouth fills with saliva, because I want to taste all of her. She looks flustered, my Ruh-chul, but I do not detect her fear scent.
This is good. Pleased, I get to my feet and stalk toward her again, noticing the way her eyes widen as I approach.
“Jurik,” she pants, putting her hand up to stop me. She says something else, but I do not know her sounds. I pull her close again, nuzzling at her throat, and she moans, her hand going into my thick mane. Her arousal scent is everywhere, coating the air around us, and it smells so tempting I drop to my knees in front of her and press my face against the apex of her thighs, holding her hips against my face.