Page 117 of Tharn's Hunt
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless and smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. "It's perfect," I tell him, touching the surprisingly soft scales with reverent fingers.
Tharn stills. His claws hover near the garment, as if seeing it anew through my eyes. I can feel his emotions swirling faintly in the mindspace. Uncertainty and hope, layered beneath the quiet pride he’s trying to keep hidden.
"I’ve never had anything like this," I add softly, running my hand over the smooth scales. They feel durable, and Tharn has clearly made the entire thing with care. The seams are tight, the edges reinforced, and even the faint, jagged patterns etched into the scales by his claws give it a strange, artistic beauty.
His claws drop slightly, his posture almost hesitant. "It is… useful," he projects.
"Useful?" I repeat, arching a brow, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Tharn, you made this for me. It’s more than useful—it’s beautiful."
He watches me for a long moment, unmoving, his glowing eyes tracing every line of my face. I feel the faintest pull in the mindspace, his awe cresting like a soft wave and washing over me.
"You honor my claws’ work," he projects at last.
I can’t stop my smile from widening. On impulse, I reach out, brushing my fingers against his hand. His claws twitch, and I feel a tremor run through him at my touch.
Tharn exhales slowly. The awe in his expression shifts, the warmth in his eyes sharpening into something hotter, more mischievous. His gaze drops from my face to the scale-and-vinecreation lying between us. Then his eyes meet mine again, and a slow, predatory grin spreads across his face.
My heart stutters. I know that look.
Before I can react, he moves. He doesn't reach for the new garment. He reaches for the ties of the hide dress I'm already wearing.
"Thar—?" I gasp as he yanks the knot loose with one sharp tug.
I catch his hands, a breathless laugh escaping me. "Wait, wait! I want to try it on first!"
A low rumble vibrates in his chest—a sound of pure, smug satisfaction. He releases my dress, his hands settling on my hips as he watches me with undisguised interest.
I slip out of my current garment, my skin prickling under his intense gaze. I pick up his creation. The scales are cool and soft against my skin, the woven straps surprisingly soft. It's awkward to put on, but it covers me—more or less. The fact that his hands made this, that he bled for it, makes it feel more precious than the finest silk.
"Well?" I ask, rising and turning in a slow circle for his inspection. "What do you think?"
His eyes darken, that now-familiar hunger blazing in their amber depths.
"Beautiful," he projects. "But still unnecessary."
I step closer, settling back onto his lap with my arms draped over his shoulders. "Thank you," I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "It's the nicest thing anyone's ever made for me."
He makes a sound that's half growl, half purr, his hands settling on my hips once more. "I will make more," he promises. "Better ones."
"I'd like that," I say, smiling against his skin. "But right now..."
His grip tightens, breaths ceasing as I trail kisses down his neck. "Right now?" he prompts.
I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, my fingers toying with the edge of my new tunic. "Right now, I think you should help me take this off."
Tharn's hands still beneath mine. Then his fingers tighten on the scales.
The ripping sound echoes off the stone as the tunic splits clean down the middle.
My gasp morphs into laughter. "Was that really necessary?"
"Yes." He palms my bare waist, his other hand spearing into my hair. "You honored my gift. Now I honor your skin."
The first kiss brands. The second conquers. By the third, Tharn spins me effortlessly, my back pressed flush to his chest, before lowering us onto the scattered scales. His arm bands across my ribs, holding me upright while his other hand splays possessively over my abdomen.
"You…are so beautiful," he projects into the mindspace.
My gaze slides down myself, and I gasp as the thick ridge of his shaft notches at my entrance. One slow thrust and he's halfway in, the stretch delicious. Then there’s that unfamiliar pressure against my behind. The new, swollen part of him, nestles perfectly between my cheeks, pulsing with heat as he finally sheathes himself completely.
