Page 89 of Drawn By Dragonblood
We’d always been insatiable for each other but not with such intensity.
“That man has turned us into fucking nymphos,” I muttered, her soft skin caressing my lips as they moved to form the words.
Dakota pulled my face away from her neck, her eyes still hazed by passion. “Do you think...” She bit her lip, a frown marring her brow. “I mean, this can’t be healthy. This level of desire—it’s constant.”
“I don’t know what the fuck it is.” I peered into her eyes, praying she could read the truth in my words. “It goes beyond the lust and fucking, baby. It’s like...”
“Like falling in love all over again?” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
I blew a breath between my lips and held her gaze, knowing I could tell her anything—anything—and she would still love me. “Yes, but it’s almost more. It’s like he owns a part of me or something. I wish I didn’t feel guilty about it, but I do. And this place?” I couldn’t even bear to look around and be slammed again with memories of my shortcomings. “It’s not home, Dakota. Feels…wrong.”
Dakota sucked her lower lip between her teeth and nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Same.”
I kissed the wetness from her satiny skin, slightly relieved to know we faced the same emotional turmoil even though it killed me she suffered in the same way I did. We’d done everything together. Falling in love with someone else should be as unsettling as it was regardless of how right inviting Elijah into our marriage seemed. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m scared, Jon. Afraid something is going to go wrong. That you’ll be heartbroken. Angry with me.”
I kissed her lips, gentle and slow, tasting the sweetness of her stuttered exhale. “Not gonna happen this time around, baby.”
“But what if it does?”
I refused to let her think that way even though I felt insecure as fuck too. “Then we face it together like always, but it’ll be three of us. There’s safety in numbers, baby. One step forward a day, and we talk shit out at the first hint of something not sitting right with either of us. Honesty and openness is going to be key to seeing us through this.”
She heaved a sigh and rested her body against mine as I tried to believe my own words.
“I know in my heart that we’re meant to be together, but what if he tires of us and sends us away?”
My mind blanked at the thought. Fucking emptied, creating a gaping hole in my chest that hurt worse than anything I’d experienced before. All I could do was hold my wife tighter, my arms and lips offering the assurance my mind couldn’t voice—or believe.
An hour later, we sat in the limo, hands clasped as the driver took us into Lower Manhattan. The traffic, the buildings rising high overhead, smothered me in a way they never had before. All I could think about was returning to the mountains, the peaceful quietness of Elijah’s cavern the next day where his energy soothed even while making me horny as fuck.
Dakota and I had been desperate to get the hell out of our apartment. I’d tossed my shit into two duffle bags and had been ready to jet within twenty minutes, but she took more time to gather her photography things and laptop after emailing the contracted images to North Wood Living. My skin itched with the need to be gone and get back to Elijah’s side.
The limo slowed, and I glanced out the window.
The building housing Tolzman Industries disappeared into the sky above us, and although I expected I’d be spending a lot of time there for work in the future, the ruckus, the city scents assaulting my nose, caused a frown to dent my brow. Even the promise of soon seeing the dude I couldn’t get enough of didn’t ease my scowl.
A receptionist showed us into Elijah’s office fifteen minutes later. He still sat in his meeting, but the scent of him, the peacefulness of his spirit, filled the empty room. The second the door clicked shut behind his receptionist, I breathed a heavy sigh, most of the tension that had been riding me since he’d dropped us off at our apartment fading.
“I want to go back,” Dakota grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “I—I mean to Elijah’s. It’s quieter.”
“Peaceful,” I said, falling into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“I don’t remember hating the city this much,” she said, starting to sit beside me.
I grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap instead, tucking her against me where she fit so perfectly. “Same.”
“Really?” She snorted a laugh. “I thought you enjoyed the hustle and bustle.”
“I did.” Frowning again, I glanced around Elijah’s spacious office. It sat tidy same as everything else about the man. Bookshelves, computers, pieces of art that must cost a fortune created a very Elijah-like room. “Where’s the classical music?” I wondered, noting the overhead speakers—and cameras—and actually missing the stringed instruments he loved to listen to. “Sybil, music,” I commanded.
A quiet piece, slow and boring as shit, filtered through the speakers, and I almost smiled as another part of my insides settled.
Dakota let out a snicker and melted against me. “Love you.”
“Love you more,” I said but couldn’t find it in myself to grin like usual.
She snuggled against me, her cheek on my chest as I drew circles on her arm with my fingertips and considered where the road we traveled might lead. We were both deeply connected to Elijah in some strange way, falling in love with him it felt like, and I feared the pleasure of being with him wouldn’t be worth the pain in the end. Fucking around and having an affair worked for a lot of people in the world, but actually having a poly relationship of equal status and shared…everything? Especially when nothing about him and I were equal to anyone with eyes.
