Captive of the Horde King (Horde Kings Of Dakkar #1) - Zoey Draven Page 0,69
touched me in places that made me bite my lip and try to hold back a moan. But anything more, even when we lay in bed at night, was nonexistent.
And I was slowly losing my mind because of it.
My body felt like a stranger’s once again. I was almost constantly aroused because of his teasings, my body needing release. My skin felt sensitive to the touch. I’d woken up that morning in an empty bed with my hand between my legs and I’d been so tempted to release some tension myself. But Mirari and Lavi had entered shortly after and I’d sighed in frustration and let them dress me for the day instead.
But now, as Lavi finished braiding my hair, I wanted to know what Mirari thought.
“Is it…is this strange?” I asked, worried about her reply. My eyes went over to the chests that lined the tent wall and my belly burned. It wasn’t the first time I wondered if Arokan was releasing his own tension elsewhere. And that thought cut deep. It made jealousy swarm my veins.
The only thing that didn’t make me completely lose it over that was that I didn’t know when he’d have the time to seek out another female. He went about his duties during the day with his pujerak and his advisors and at dusk, he collected me from the enclosure and we trained together until long after nightfall. After which, we retired to our tent.
Mirari lowered her voice and said, “It is, Missiki. I am sorry to say. Dakkari males are very…very needful.”
My stomach dropped, my eyes closing. I knew it. I knew something was wrong.
“It all makes sense now,” she said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“It is rumored that as of late the Vorakkar has been especially short with his warriors. Frustrated. Rarely does he show his temper, but I am told it’s been rather apparent lately.”
My brows rose, surprised. With me, Arokan didn’t seem any different, though there had been something in his gaze that confused me. A tightness.
But everything had been normal between us. We spent a good deal of time together, especially at night, so wouldn’t I notice if something was wrong?
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed, looking into her eyes. Mirari and Lavi—though she only spoke a handful of words in the universal tongue now—had become my friends. I trusted them. And I trusted Mirari to tell me the truth. I knew she would, had never held back before, despite her being my piki.
“Does he ever make his interest clear?” she asked softly, though she still seemed a little uncomfortable with the subject.
I furrowed my brow. “Sometimes I think so. He, um, touches me at night. I always think he will initiate something, but he always pulls away shortly afterwards.”
Mirari blinked. “Why do you not initiate then?”
“What?”
Mirari shook her head. “Missiki, do you ever touch him too? Do you seem receptive to him? What do you do when he makes his interest clear?”
“I…” I trailed off. I looked down at my lap, at the golden marks across my wrists. They were fully healed now and beautiful. “I just…wait.”
Mirari sucked in a sharp inhale. “Missiki…”
“Is that bad?” I asked, looking up at her. “It’s bad, isn’t it? Ugh, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had to think about this before.”
“Never?” she asked skeptically.
My cheeks flamed again. “No. I was inexperienced before the Vorakkar.”
“Oh, I see,” Mirari said gently. “In that case, Missiki, you need to take initiative. Males need to know that you desire them as much as they desire you. If you do nothing when he touches you, he must think that you do not want his advances.”
“But…” I whispered, dread pooling in my stomach. “But I do.”
“Then it is not a problem,” Mirari said, smiling, relaxing at my admission. “Just communicate with your body that you wish for him to continue.”
“I don’t know how,” I confessed again.
The other times we’d had sex, had I touched him, been receptive to him?
The night he’d come to me after I refused to eat, I’d been still and unresponsive. He’d touched and kissed my body but it was only after my stomach growled did he stop. Or had it also been because I was simply lying there, scared and nervous? I remembered he’d kept looking up at me. Had that been to gauge whether I was enjoying it? Had he stopped because he thought I wasn’t, not only because I was hungry?