Page 72 of Bride of the Black Dragon
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ELAINA
The heat in my body is becoming unbearable.
It’s not just that I’m flushed, or that my skin feels feverish. It’s deeper than that. I’m hot all over, yes—but I also feel hollow. Like there’s something missing inside me, something I need desperately to feel whole again.
My nipples ache, stiff and sensitive as they brush against Xaren’s bare chest. My thighs tremble with need. And my pussy—Gods, my pussy—it’s soaked. I try to breathe deeply, to ignore these strange sensations but every breath I take seems to stoke the fire inside me, not soothe it.
What’s happening to me?
I try again to ignore it. I focus on Xaren instead—his big body beneath mine, slowly warming. He’s still so pale, the light from the tiny window in the cell casting faint, cold shadows across his high cheekbones and scarred jaw. His golden eye is no more than a faint flicker.
You’re here for him. This is about him. Not you. Not your body.
But then he breathes in—deep and deliberate—almost as though he’s scenting me.
He frowns.
“What’s happening to you, little dove?” he rumbles, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Your scent has changed.”
My heart lurches.
“It has? How?”
“You smell… different. Hotter. Almost like…” He inhales again and his frown deepens. “Almost like a female going into heat.”
My face goes hot with shame. But before I can answer, his large hand is stroking my hair back from my damp forehead, his expression concerned.
“Elaina, what is it? What’s happening to you?”
I can’t lie to him. Not now—not when he’s finally warming in my arms, when his Drake is starting to stir again.
“Your mother sent me down here… so you could get me pregnant,” I admit, my voice tight. “She made me drink a fertility tea. It was extra strong. I didn’t want to, Xaren, I swear. But she…she made me.”
His eyes flash.
“Gods damn her to Hell! That stuff is fucking dangerous!”
“I feel so strange,” I whisper, pressing my face to his neck. His cooler temperature feels good to me now that I’m so overheated. “I’m so hot… and empty. I can’t think. I just—” I lift my head and look him in the eye. “I think I need to be filled. Please… I need you.”
I writhe against him as I speak. His body is alive beneath mine—I can feel the long, hard shaft branding my belly but I want it inside me. No, I need it inside me.
His big hands grip my hips before I can move down and try to straddle him.
“Whoa, little dove—wait a minute. You don’t know what you’re asking. That fertility brew…I’ve heard what it can do to a woman. It can make you mindless with need. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I breathe, desperate now. My entire body is trembling with hunger, with the terrible, burning emptiness inside me. “Please, Xaren. I need you in me!”
He groans low in his chest, the sound vibrating through his broad frame.
“You’ll have me,” he growls. “I swear you will. But not like this. Not without preparation. You’re too tight and I’m too big—we have to go slow.”
“Then help me,” I beg. “Do something.”
“I will,” he says. “Let me get you ready.”
Before I can ask what he means, he reaches down and lifts me by the hips, strong and sure. I gasp as he guides me up his chest, higher and higher, until I’m straddling his face.
