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)
I wake up, gasping, clawing at the spot where my hand used to be.
It takes me a moment to realize it was all a dream. That Brady’s dead, and I’m not being forced to marry him. That my right hand is gone. I stare at my stump, rubbing the scarred end. Even though I can see my hand isn’t there, it still hurts. Phantom pain. It’s happened before, but never on the cusp of a dream.
Such an awful dream, too.
Then again, what isn’t awful right now? I touch the dragon’s claws, still holding me in place, and look up at the delicate veins of the wing sail. The sunlight is gray with pre-dawn, and everywhere I look, there are golden scales, the dragon tightly curled around me.
Still trapped.
Another pain throbs through my missing hand, and I fight back a few tears of pity. I can’t feel sorry for myself. I don’t have time for that sort of thing. Everything’s just so overwhelming, though, that I feel…defeated. I clutch my stump to my chest and allow myself to cry, just a little.
The dragon’s wing moves, and the claws around my waist tighten. I give them an angry shove, and when he doesn’t release me, I sob a little harder, pressing my arms against my chest. This dragon is the biggest problem. He won’t let me leave. Even if I somehow manage to get away from him, he’s going to follow me. He’s ruining my life…and he won’t even talk to me.
And yet I’m supposed to somehow romance him and form a mental bond with him. Me, who’s never had experience with anything along those lines…and if I don’t, it means Manda and Jenny and Kristi are going to get booted from the program.
More tears bubble up, and a sob rips from my throat. My missing hand throbs, and that just makes me cry harder.
A cold waft of air brushes over my back, and then the claws are gone from my waist. A man crouches next to me, crooning, and I realize dimly that the dragon’s shifted back to his human form. He touches my shoulder, and when I try to shrug him away, he murmurs my name. “Ruh-chul.”
Then, Jurik lies down next to me and pulls me against him.
This is different than him holding me to the ground with his claws. That made me feel trapped, like a mouse caught by a very large cat. This is…kind. He cradles me against his chest, my back against his front, and his arms wrap around me in a bear hug. He nuzzles at my hair and rubs his nose against my ear, all the while making soft sounds in his throat to comfort me.
And he just…keeps hugging me while I cry.
It’s been so long since I’ve been hugged. So long since someone touched me with affection. Jenny and Manda are my friends, but our touches have been impersonal. No one’s ever full-body hugged me to comfort me…and it feels amazing. I didn’t expect this, and I sure didn’t expect that it would feel good.
My sobs die down and turn into sniffles. My hand keeps throbbing, but I know from past experience that it’ll eventually go away. There’s nothing to do but try to ignore it, because the pain’s in my head, not in the missing limb. I figure I’ll just wait it out, sitting quietly for as long as Jurik will hold me.
Because I’m not moving a muscle. Not if he hugs me like this. It’s feeding some deep and yearning need I didn’t realize I had. I’m being…snuggled. It’s the best thing in the world. I might fight about a lot of stuff, but this?
I love this.
20
RACHEL
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I know you can’t understand me, but thank you anyhow. I didn’t know how much I needed this.” I touch the arms wrapped tightly around me, stroking his skin. Funny how the man seems to be all fangs and horns and yet he hasn’t scraped me with them, not once. When it comes to me, he’s utterly careful.
He strokes my hair again, nuzzling at my ear, and his breath tickles my skin. “Ruh-chul,” he murmurs.
“Jurik,” I say easily back.
His nose brushes against my skin and then he presses his lips to my neck.
A hot prickle of arousal moves through me. I should have known he’d try to turn this into a make-out session but…somehow I don’t mind. He’s been holding me for endless minutes, letting me cry all over his arms, soothing me, so of course it leads to this. I half-expect him to start grinding his cock against my ass, but he doesn’t. He strokes my hair, murmurs those soft, nonsense sounds in his throat to soothe me, and presses his mouth to my neck again in an almost-kiss.
It’s…really nice.
I feel secure. More than that, I feel cherished. Like I’m not just another mouth to feed or a human body to be used. How long has it been since I felt special to anyone? Cherished? Adored?