Her Dragon King (Her Dragon King Duet 2) - Page 49

That supposition was correct, but I had failed to properly account for the mate bond.

How clever she had been in North Dakota to put space between us after she left me chained to the bed unable to do anything about the deep ache she’d stirred within me. I needed that distance now, especially since unlike me, she was doing nothing to mute her side of our mate bond.

As it was, I could feel her need like it was my own. Painful and aching, begging me silently to cease this punishment and take her. And that makes it rather difficult to pretend she has no effect on me. For I know if I dared to look down, I would see my flame would be just as red with ardor as hers.

But my flame matters not. For my father’s honor, I must remain strong.

With that resolution in mind, I replicate the style I learned to make from a video earlier this week as quickly as possible. When I’m finally done with the installation, I do not pause to admire my work. Or even to tease her about her heightened state of arousal.

I’m not sure I could speak these words even if I were to force myself to. The competing instinct to worship her glorious form…to finish what I started and release us both from our misery is overwhelming.

“We’re done here. Please preserve the style for tomorrow’s event.” Quickly rising to my feet, I leave her to get out of the tub on her own.

“You forgot to say goodbye, Reverence.”

Her husky voice drops into my head, stopping me at the bottom of the steps.

I turn my head and say out loud, “Good ni—”

“But that’s not how you do it, right?” She rises from the bath, water sluicing down her brown skin as she comes to a bold stand. I watch her climb out of the tub, and my male works press urgently into my scales. Rendering me unable to do anything but stare as she walks toward me, seemingly unconcerned with the water she drips in her wake.

“Good night, Reverence…” She wraps her left hand around my wrist and raises my right hand into the air to touch her right palm to mine. “Isn’t that how we’re supposed to say good night? That’s how Xenon and my sister say goodbye.”

No, it isn’t. She has performed the male part of the ritual, and with the wrong hand. Besides, females never initiate a parting. That is the male’s job when paying reverence.

Which I have yet to do.

Shame rises like steam inside of me, uncaring of my duty to my father. Only to her. But I quickly suppress the feeling before it is able to ripple across our mate bond.

My refusal to respond does not make her release me, however. Instead, she observes me, her head flame lit up with suspicion.

“You lied to me,” she says, still refusing to release my wrist.

“I did not lie to you,” I answer. “I merely meted out a slightly crueler version of the punishment you rendered upon me. Count yourself grateful I did not tie you to the bed first.”

I am trying to bait her. But she tosses me a vexing half-smile and answers, “Ooh, my wolf likes the idea of you tying me up.”

Naughty she-wolf…I only barely keep my answering lust from blasting across our mate bond.

Nevertheless, her eyes narrow suspiciously on me. “There you go again, not letting me in. You know what I think, Reverence?”

My flame flares at her use of such an intimate title, but I refuse to answer her query.

She continues on anyway. “You said you could never be him. But I think it’s the other way around.”

She presses her incorrect palm even more firmly into mine. “He is you, deep down inside. He’s the dragon you’re holding back every time you send a bunch of numb down our mate bond. The dragon you’re holding back now instead of taking your queen into that too fancy bedroom and fucking her like you know you want to—ooh, there it goes again. I guess that means I’m totally right. It’s so cold on your side of the bond. I must really be turning you on.”

I somehow manage to remain outwardly calm, but inside…my flame doesn’t just flare this time.

It roars.

She finally releases my wrist, but only so that she might step closer to me and place her hands upon my chest. “I want this to work. Imagine the happily ever after we could have if you let go of all those feelings inside of you? We could be everything, you and me. Maybe you should let me in.”

Her touch upon my chest, her direct gaze…it feels as if she is unraveling me. I don’t answer. It would be too dangerous to answer. For I don’t trust her or myself in this moment. And I am quickly coming to regret this scheme.

Tags: Theodora Taylor Her Dragon King Duet Fantasy
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