Tropical Dragons Series Box Set - Naomi Lucas Page 0,58

breasts. Then, using one of the sharp shells adorning it, I tear it into strips and bind his wounds as best I can.

I get most of his neck and part of his arm covered before I run out of hide. He’s still moaning.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, trying not to touch him more than I should… even though I long to run my fingers over his muscled arms and chiseled chest. I want to so badly my heart pounds relentlessly. Warmth swirls in my belly. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Glancing behind me once more, I know if we follow the rock wall bordering the jungle, we’ll eventually reach the caves. The cliffs will provide protection from the lightning. It’s a way to go, but we can’t stay here, not with the coming tide. We could be underwater in another hour.

Peering back at the male, I know I’m going to have to get him to safety on my own. It’s the only way. I can’t leave him here to die.

Getting up, I take a deep breath and grasp his hands.

And with every ounce of strength there is, with desperate adrenaline rushing through my limbs, I begin to drag him through the sand.

Minutes pass by like hours, and the chill of the rain vanishes with exertion. I pause to shift his weight—grabbing shoulders or shifting the way I pull, minding that his bindings stay secure—but I don’t stop. Every time I glimpse the beach, the water is a little closer. Each inhale is excruciating, and when I hear flapping, cracking sounds above me, I find we’re under the rope bridge. It’s broken, and the ends slam the walls with each new gust.

Gulping, I turn away, heaving the male along. The cliffs go inland from here.

It feels like an eternity has passed, but we finally make it to the grassy rise before the cave’s entrance.

The lightning has lessened without me noticing.

Another deep, straining moan reaches my ears.

Stopping for a moment, I drop down beside the male and check his wounds. My hands still at their discovery. The bleeding has stopped… The shallow ones are nearly closed. Licking my lips in wonder, I take his hands again and lug him up the final rise.

When the rain stops falling, I know we’re under the cave entrance’s cover. I collapse at the male’s side. Catching my breath, my muscles crying, I peer out into the storm and realize it’s almost nightfall.

The storm’s been raging for hours.

He groans; I moan. Everything hurts. Now that we’re safe, the pain hits me tenfold, and minutes pass before I can even consider moving.

The warmth in my body worsens instead of cools. Pressing my hands to my chest—I gasp—swearing there’s smoke rising from my mouth. Eyes widening, wiping them several more times just in case, I exhale again, but this time there’s no smoke. Moving my hands to my neck, my pulse vibrates erratically under my fingers.

What in the waters was that?

Storms, dragons, a beastly male… and as if the male knows my thoughts, he groans. I turn my head to the side, taking in his outline.

A huge beastly male, I correct.

Sitting up slowly, I lean over him and my sex clenches. Frustration guts me. I shouldn’t feel desire, not now, not like this, but my body has its own way of handling the stress of the situation. My sex clamps again, harder this time.

I nearly died several times over. I curse.

But then again, I nearly die every day while out hunting. The fact that I haven’t proves my prowess to the tribe, my ability to provide, take care of others, and lead.

Staring at the dragon male, I remember his prowess and strength on the beach, his glowing, knowledgeable gaze and that enormous body that filled the sky… It all returns to mind at once, exciting me. My body startles. He was so strong. Still is. I take in his dangerous-looking horns.

Horns, yes. Sharp, long, and pointy, they’re jutting from above and behind his ears. The same color as his scales were.

Are, I correct myself. He still has scales.

His shaft has teardrop scales that look like velvet.

A deeper heat grows inside me. Aida, you pervert. I shake my head.

He has long white-blonde hair with pale blue streaks throughout, but it’s hard to be sure with how wet it is, the way it’s damp against his skin.

Then there’s his body, long and toned with muscles only the strongest hunters have, but bigger still. Because he’s long—taller than anyone I have ever