Page 80 of Gemini Kings
And, shit, my entire body feels him coming.
Under the waves, my skin floods with a wash of heat. Against the soaked strip of my thong, my clit pulses with need. My pussy clenches in a spasm so tight I barely bite back a moan.
“That—that’s close enough,” I gasp. “Now turn around.”
For the first time, he hesitates. His eyes narrow to menacing slits. Something about my scrutiny is making him—the great big dragon—feel threatened.
I huff out a soft breath. “I’m not gonna goose you or anything. C’mon, turn around. I wanna see your back.”
His head droops and his voice lowers to a hiss. “You wish to see my shame? So be it. That is your right as sovereign.”
Before I can wrap my head around that, he pivots to give me his back. All that long blond hair is swirling in the way, so I gather it carefully in one hand—it’s silky soft, so much softer than I expect—and ease it to one side.
From the base of his neck down, his narrow back is scored with the long pale slashes of old scarring. Those faded furrows crisscross and overlap and run all the way down under the water.
My tummy squirms with a sick feeling. I lay my free hand on his shoulder and he flinches.
This big tough dragonflinches.
At my touch.
“It’s okay, big guy,” I breathe softly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just wanna see. Okay?”
I hear the click of his swallow before he grunts his consent.
As gently as I can, my hand ghosts down his back to trace the furrows of all that scarring. Some of those scars are viciously deep, like they cut him to the bone. The mutilation runs all the way down his back and stops just short of his ass. Some of the damage feels like claw marks in straight solid rows. But some of the marks are curvy.
Way too clearly, he’s also been whipped.
Brutally.
Like, with a bullwhip.
Someone hurt my dragon.
My voice lashes out in a dragonish snarl. “Who did this to you?”
His head snaps sideways so I can see his fierce profile.
But his gaze eludes mine.
The queen in me demands an answer. I snap out the command. “Who. Did. This. To. You.”
“Siblings raised in the same clutch can be savage,” he says curtly, with a complete fucking lack of emotion. “There is never enough food in the tundra to feed a clutch of starving dragons, so each must fight for his share. And I was… the runt of the litter, as they say.”
I’m outraged and appalled as hell. His own siblings fucking savaged him and stole his food. No wonder he’s skin and bone. Literally, how does this even happen in the twenty-first century? Even in goddamn Siberia?
“There’s more to it than that.Someone whipped you.More than once.” Goddamn it, I need to hear all of it. And somehow, I know he needs to tell me.
His head turns away from me, but I grip his waist to hold him right there. And, God help me, he feels good under my hands. He feelssofucking good.
Our mate,my inner dragon purrs.Oh, Zara, how hard we shall ride him.
Down, girl. I mean it.I clear my throat. “Who whipped you, Maxim?”
“My Lady Mother,” he says tightly, biting off the words. “She scourged all of us. With her… her cat o’ nine tails. With her cane. With her… bullwhip… when she meant business. To keep us in our place. So we would obey her. So we would never challenge her. Because I am the dominant male of my clan, I required more… correction… than most.”
Sweet mercy. He says it so calmly. But this is the root of his shame.
