Page 23 of The Dragon Sacrifice

He set his wineglass down, then turned to her. “Seela, please don’t ever be sorry for the things that other humans do. What you did for my brother…” His eyes trailed over her. “It was amazing to see you work. You saved him, you know.”

She shook her head. It was feeling light and floaty, likely from the delicious fruity wine. “I did what anyone would do.”

Stenton laughed. “Most humans we meet try to kill us. You risked your life in the tunnel to save us, and then you worked for hours on my brother to nurse him back to health. That’s hardly what most humans would do.” His eyes traced over her again, making a thrill trip over her skin. “You are a marvel, Seela of the Deep Forest.”

She tried to shrug off the compliment, reaching to put down the wine goblet, but her hand was unsteady. The glass caught the table lip and tilted. Seela watched it with wide eyes as it balanced precariously. It would spill all over Stenton’s carpet, and end up ruining one of the few precious things he had left. She reached out for the goblet just as Stenton was doing the same.

Their hands clasped around the cup. Wine sloshed over her fingers, warm and sticky, but it wasn’t the liquid she was concerned about now. It was Stenton’s large hands fitted over her own. The feel of his skin was much smoother than she’d imagined, much warmer.

Their eyes locked. His were an orangey-brown, like the last coals in a dying fire. But something burned deep within them. She’d seen men lingering outside of the tavern giving women looks like that before. The bishop had given it to her as he’d propositioned her in the butcher shop.

Stenton wanted her.

His eyes trailed over her, skimming her lips and dropping lower to the curve of flesh the bodice of her dress showed off nicely. He cleared his throat as he brought his eyes up to her face.

“You are doing something to me, Seela. Something I am not sure I can control.” One of his thumbs began to brush the back of her hand in gentle circles.

“And what is that?” she whispered, unable to find her voice. At his touch, her mind could focus on nothing but Stenton, his manly smell, his feather-light caress, the way his full red lips pressed together before he spoke.

“I’m not sure how men where you’re from react to you, but as a dragon, it is my duty to inform you that every ounce of me is begging to lay you on that bed right there,” he nodded back to his soft mattress, “and find out what is beneath that dress.”

She squirmed with the want pooling between her legs. It was a strange sensation, this desire. She’d felt it with Langdon, but this was hotter, more persistent. An itch that begged to be scratched.

And she wanted Stenton to scratch it all night long.

But what kind of girl would give in to such a request? The prince would use her, then probably discard her as a harlot. And what good would that do anyone since they were all stuck here together?

She squeezed her legs together tightly enough to extinguish the fire burning there.

“It would not be proper for me to go to bed with you,” she said politely. “Even if you are a prince.”

“Wise choice,” he said, his voice nearly a growl of lust. “Then let me just clean off this wine.”

He took the hand that had been sloshed with wine, bringing it up to his mouth. Slowly, he slid her finger between his lips and sucked it clean.

The sensation was incredible, only serving to rekindle the fire she’d tried to put out. The place between her legs ached and pulsed, begging Seela to let Stenton use those talented lips and tongue elsewhere. She shifted, trying to ease the ache.

Stenton lifted another finger and inserted it into his mouth, sucking and moving his expert tongue along the tip.

Seela thought she might die of want. Her body seemed to be acting of its own accord, leaning toward Stenton, putting her heaving chest close to his face. With her free hand, she gripped her dress, half expecting that hand to tear the fabric off to give Stenton what he wanted.

He went for the third and final tarnished finger.

Seela pictured them on the bed, him on top of her, his fierce body writhing between her legs. Oh Lords, she wanted it. Wanted him so badly it hurt.

“Stenton,” she whispered.

“Yes?” His voice was low and animal.

“I kissed your brother.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. Those weren’t the words she’d expected to say when she began. No, she’d wanted to beg him to rip her dress to shreds and spread her legs wide. To put out the fire burning between her thighs.

Instead, she’d just confessed to being hot and loose with his brother.

Stenton put her hand in her lap. He tilted his head, a curious and confused expression crossing his face. “You are telling me this because…”

“I want to be honest with you,” she stammered. “I like you.”

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