Page 67 of The Forbidden Dragon King
My Alpha needs me.
To my shock, however, slick gushes between my thighs.
I stare down at the stain on the front of my nightdress, which is now sticking to my legs.
“What the fuck…?” I gasp.
My pheromones become stronger in waves, and my scent deepens.
I pant, sprawling back in the bed.
It can’t be.
But what if it is? I bonded with Bard, although he broke it.
Have I fully bonded with Daire? Is the mark enough to trigger my body into my first heat?
I pant, thrashing my head side to side, as waves of unexpected pleasure hit me.
I slip my hand between my thighs, teasing up the edges of my nightdress with aching slowness and wishing that it was Daire’s long fingers.
I hump my hips, as my pussy clenches.
More slick runs down my thighs.
I feel empty.
I moan, as my eyelashes flutter.
My mind is beginning to fog.
This is why Omegas and Alphas over the age of twenty-one match up in the Mate Hunt. Being alone through either a heat or a rut is agony.
Suddenly, my eyes shoot open.
Is Daire also going through his rut? If we’re connected through the bond, surely my heat is dragging him into rut as well. Only, he isn’t luxuriating in velvet bedding. He’s lying on a hard stone floor behind bars in the freezing darkness.
He’s locked in the dungeons below this palace.
“Daire,” I whisper, licking across the snowflake, hoping that he can feel it. “Alpha.”
I shiver, when I feel the press of gentle lips in return, then a nip of sharp teeth like Daire is struggling to restrain himself and biting his wrist is helping him.
My Alpha is in rut too.
I slowly sink my own teeth into my wrist without breaking the skin, over the exact imprint of Daire’s teeth.
I feel his desire and joy explode though the bond.
If we need to be separated, then I will find a way to help him through this.
Without letting go of my wrist, I lick over the bond mark. I feel the ghost of Daire’s tongue, mimicking my every move.
I groan, humping my hips.
It’s ecstasy.
“Alpha,” I mumble.
