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)
So yeah, definitely not complaining.
Good. Roll onto your belly and I will fill you with my seed again. He nips at my throat, sending little pinpricks of delight through me.
Such a tempting thought. I look up at the window, and sunlight is pouring in. Shit. Immediately, the lazy feeling evaporates, and I push out of Jurik’s arms. “We have to go back to the fort. I have to be there by sundown or I don’t know what’ll happen to Manda and the others. What time is it?”
Jurik tries to draw me back down into bed. Time?
“Do your people not have clocks?” I cling to the edge of the mattress as he tries to drag me down to his arms. “Never mind. Let’s just assume it’s late and we need to get going.” I think of all the things we need to get done first. I have to find new clothes, scrounge up whatever I can bring in my bag as a peace offering, and I need to shower, and eat, and—
No. Jurik lets me get up, but he’s on his feet too in the next moment. We will go to your human hive, but I want you smelling of our mating. I want the others to know how thoroughly you have been claimed.
My face feels like it’s on fire. I’m sticky between my thighs and incredibly aware of just how many times I was claimed. “I’d rather not—”
Then we do not go to your hive.
I glare up at him, my hands on my hips. “Are you serious?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. Very. I want you to smell like my mate. It keeps you safe. Otherwise I will get back into this bed and laze in the sun all day instead of flying you to a place I despise.
I purse my lips, debating this. I can go smelling like sex, or I can not go. “Fine. You win.”
He grins, showing me bright white, sharp teeth. I know.
I hate that he looks cute. I hate that his stubborn chin looks so kissable, because right now, I cannot kiss him. I need to get back to the fort. “Five minutes, and then I’ll be ready, all right?”
Jurik pulls me into his arms and brushes his lips against my hair. Shall I catch you a meal?”
My stomach growls. “Only if you’re going to cook it for me, too.” I fill my thoughts with him flaming the haunch from before. “I don’t eat raw meat. It’s not safe.”
I can flame it. His eyes brighten, all golden hues as he gazes down at me. Cover yourself with your human things, and I will get you food. Then, we will go. He kisses me once, and then his body tenses.
I grab his forearm. “Wait!”
He freezes, his eyes flaring black for a moment, and I can feel the change in his thoughts, like static breaking in through a radio signal. What is it? What is wrong?
Nothing’s wrong. Just…don’t tear the roof off this house, okay? I might want to come back.
He grunts, caresses my cheek one more time, and then steps outside. I watch him go, wincing as he steps over the broken door. We’re going to run out of houses if this keeps up—broken door on this one, roof collapsed on the other. He doesn’t realize just how valuable these houses—and their contents—are.
I do now. I will be careful in the future if it means a lot to you.
Oh. Even though I can’t see him, I can feel his thoughts. That would be great, Jurik, thank you.
Say my name again. I like hearing it from you.
I blush again. Jurik.
I can feel his pleasure, and I force myself to go to the bathroom, hunting for a comb. Sure enough, my hair is a sex-snarled mess, and there are hickies all over my throat and shoulders. The spot where he bit me and gave me his “fires” is reddened, but no teeth marks show.
Everyone in the fort is going to know what I’ve been up to, but I suppose that’s the idea. I find a comb and pull my hair into a low ponytail as best I can, since no one is here to braid it for me and I find it impossible to do one handed. I drape my hair over my shoulder, and then raid the closets, looking for clothing.
I will braid your hair for you, Jurik tells me. I will do everything for you.
I don’t need everything done for me, I point out. I’m fine on my own…but a braid would be nice. Thank you.
I am bringing you a meal, he tells me, and sends me a mental image of a black and white furry creature that is even now running away from him.
Oh god, no! A skunk. ABORT, ABORT, I tell him, panicked. DON’T TOUCH THAT.