accurate to say that when he isn’t pinning me down and driving into me hard enough to make me go blind, and when he isn’t dragging me on top of him and urging me to ride him faster, then he’s talking about food.
Breeding and food. They seem to be the main drives of a dragon.
Of course, eating and sex aren’t mutually exclusive. I learned that lesson well and thoroughly.
A dreamy sigh catches in my throat when Halki glances at me sharply, his eyes hotter than a moment ago. It’s as if he can read the turn my thoughts took.
“Here, dragon,” Fenna says, marching to us and shoving an earthenware pitcher into his hands. “Sheep's milk. Still warm.”
Halki carefully uses his clawed, mostly-human fingers to lift the clay lid and peer inside. “Oooh, thank you,” he murmurs. And then he brings the pitcher lip up to his mouth and tips it back like it’s sweet mead, not milk.
When he runs his tongue as far as it will reach inside of the upturned, emptied pitcher, Fenna grimaces. “That was my pottery, but you can keep it.”
Halki makes an appreciative noise, and fits the lid back onto the pitcher before running his tongue over his upper lip to clean away his milk mustache. “You are very kind.”
Fenna sniffs and eyes the pitcher he tongued. “Yeah. You dragons bring out the ‘kind’ in me a lot lately.” She’s grumbling by the end of her statement, and then she whirls around and stalks off.
Wincing, I call after her, “Thank you for taking care of the lamb!”
“Whatever!” she calls back.
“We’ll owe you!” I shout.
“She can have the next bachelor dragon we come upon,” Halki offers. He glances at me and points to the pitcher held by the handle in his other hand. “I feel wretched for not thinking of you first. Did you want some?”
I bite back my smile. “A little late to ask.” When he begins to look ashamed, I pat his scaly, broad shoulder. “It’s all right, I’m only teasing. I’ve grown up with a lifetime of sheep’s milk. I’m glad you enjoy it.” I glance around us, chewing on my lip. “Where are your brothers?” I ask him out of the corner of my mouth.
Halki surveys our tribe with a superior air. “You’re missing two clan sisters.” Then he grins. “They must have mated them.”
“Whaaat,” I say, bug-eyed—because I didn’t even notice I was missing tribeswomen. I have to scan over everyone again to see which two are gone.
Sassnitz is nowhere to be seen... and neither is Västra or Ingrid the goose. Oh no...
“I’m going to hunt,” Halki announces. “A Crested Merlin can go the full length of a heat without eating, but I’d prefer to hunt during these times when I don’t feel nearly as mating-maddened. Currently, I’m sated.”
I snort. “You should be, you beast.”
He growls smugly to that and snaps his teeth, making my skin shiver—and not because I’m scared. He squeezes my hand and gives me a bright smile. He also hands me his prized pitcher for safekeeping. “Another casting will be joining our collection. We’ll have to arrange them with care. Last night, you were so overcome with fever that you managed to push the ones we have off of the bench.”
“I remember,” I murmur. I remember being ‘overcome’ several times, in fact, but then Halki would stop the activity to retrieve them and set them beside us again.
As far as I’m concerned, I’m a champion at biting my tongue when it comes to my mate’s attraction to dried vomit.
“Happy hunting,” I tell my dragon, tugging him down to me for a farewell kiss.
Kissing is something we haven’t really done. Halki prefers nibbling, nuzzling, and biting whenever his mouth gets close.
But without sex clouding his thoughts, I’m able to get a quick peck to his surprised lips.
When I pull back enough to refocus, my throat closes up so fast I squeak.
Because Halki’s eyes have gone full black.
I push away from him. “Oh, you animal! Behave yourself and go get your hunting done. A minute ago, you were excited to make yourself another casting, remember?”
He doesn’t answer. He does begin to purr, though. And instead of turning into a dragon and flying off to hunt his next meal, he steps into me, his penetrating gaze setting fire to my insides.
He backs me up with his next step. And his next.
He’s stalking me.
I don’t even have time to decide if I should try to escape him or not. With a growl,