My very own warm, fuzzy furnace.
No. No. Notmyanything. He isn’t supposed to be here!
It was just supposed to have been sex, no strings attached. They were supposed to have enjoyed themselves and gone their separate ways. Not…not…sleeptogether! He wasn’t supposed to be holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world, wasn’t supposed to be purring contentedly, and she wasn’t supposed to love it so damn much.
“Awake already,kiraia?” Drakkal murmured huskily, shifting to nuzzle his cheek against the top of her head. “Guess I didn’t do as good a job as I thought.”
His voice sent a jolt of desire straight to her core.
Fuck!
Shay jerked away from him. Drakkal released his hold on her without struggle. If she hadn’t needed to pee so bad, she would’ve been annoyed at herself for feeling immediately so cold outside his embrace.
“Lights on,” she snapped.
The lights flared to life. She flinched from the brightness, narrowing her eyes to slits and groping blindly for the blanket as she scooted—with some difficulty—toward the edge of the bed.
“You all right, Shay?” he asked, sounding far more awake, alert, and concerned.
She yanked the blanket around her to shield her nakedness from him and stood, only to go deathly still.
Something—a lotof something—warm and viscous spilled from her, running down her inner thighs.
For a moment, Shay thought she might have actually peed herself, but that thought fled as quickly as it had formed. No, this was the aftermath of being cock-locked with an azhera as he blew his load into her over and over and over and fucking over again.
Shay clutched the blanket to her chest. She turned and glared at Drakkal, who was sitting up in bed, totally naked himself, his features strained with worry. He looked like he was about to jump to his feet and come to her.
She jabbed a finger at him and said, “Stay. There.”
He stilled, ears perking.
Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on him and waddled—fuckingwaddled!—to the connected bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she released the blanket and looked down at herself. It was difficult to see with her belly in the way, but she couldfeelhis come dripping out of her, soaking her inner thighs.
Where’d you think it’d all go? That it’d just magically disappear?
Despite the situation, Shay snort-laughed.
Magically disappearing spunk. Would sure make clean up easier.
Shay sighed and moved farther into the room, stopping abruptly when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was in complete disarray, hanging in tangled strands down her back and over her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and sleepy, but it was the marks on her skin that she stared at the longest. She turned slightly to the side. There were bruises on her hips in the shape fingers—thickazheranfingers. The memory of the way Drakkal had held her rushed to the forefront of her mind, accompanied by faint echoes of the sensations she’d felt while he thrust into her.
There was another bruise where her shoulder met herneck, barely visible through her hair. She swept her hair aside. There were several dark red spots within the bruise—scabs where Drakkal’s teeth had penetrated. She gently probed the spot with her fingers. The wound was tender, and its shape, along with its origin, was distinct and unforgettable. Drakkal had bitten her right before he came. And despite the brief flash of pain, she’denjoyedit.
That had been, hands down, the best sex she’d ever had in her life.
Then why am I so pissy? Isn’t sex supposed to give you all those feel good feelings? I should be floating blissfully on a cloud of oxytocin.
Shay placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward, staring into her own eyes.
“I should still be in bed with the azhera,” she said quietly. Just like that, her irritation bled away.
Who cared if he’d stayed after sex? That didn’t mean anything. They’d shared pleasure—intensepleasure—and had worked themselves to exhaustion; it made total sense that he would’ve just crawled onto the bed beside her and slept. And after the way he’d made her feel, after the frenzy of their lovemaking, it made sense that she’d enjoyed being held by him so calmly and tenderly.
So perfectly.
Did I really just think of it aslovemaking? Nope, no, wrong word. It was just sex.
But had it been? Had it really beenjustsex?