Fire in His Kiss
Page 46You can walk, but it is my pleasure to carry you. And his eyes gleam with the thought.
By the time we get to the bed, though, I’m pretty awake. It’s not that late in the day after all, and there’s still plenty we can—or should—do. It feels strange to spend all day lounging about, but there are not really many chores to be done. In Fort Dallas, there was always work—laundry, cooking, cleaning, or mending. Here, I have an endless supply of clean clothes, and I’ve got ready-made food. There’s really nothing for me to do.
You could read your story, Dakh tells me, climbing into bed and tugging me down against him. I would like to hear more.
“You would?”
He nods and pulls me so that my back is flush with his belly. His hard cock presses against my hip, and his hand goes to my breasts. I enjoy hearing of Dirk and Ophelia.
“I finished that book,” I tell him, picking up another romance novel. “But we can read this one?”
Do the humans mate in this one? Does he make her a picnic?
I giggle and show him the cover, with its passionate clinch. “This one is about a cowboy who rescues a woman from bandits. I’m almost sure there will be mating, if this picture is any indication.”
Then let us read on. He presses a kiss to my shoulder. I wish to learn more of human customs.
“I don’t know that we should stay in bed and read all day,” I tell Dakh when he puts another book into my hand the next morning. “It feels wrong.”
Why? He pulls me against him and rests his head atop my hair. His hands slide up my nightgown, and it’s pretty obvious to me that “reading” the book will involve more than just reading. You are fed. What else is there to do?
Oh, to have such a simple life where I don’t have to worry about anything except eating. I already feel lazy for spending most of the day yesterday having sex and reading.
Here at the store, I can relax. Here, I’ve got clothing by the truckload that doesn’t need repairs or even laundering. Here at the store, I’ve got all the food in the world that I want to eat. Granted, it’s all stale, but that doesn’t matter. It’s still edible. It won’t last forever, though. I need to start thinking about the future. I don’t know how cold it’ll get in this big, drafty store in the winter. I also don’t know how much longer the emergency lights will remain on, or if the water will continue working when it gets colder.
I don’t know if anyone’s going to come by this place and force me to defend it.
I need a plan. This place is nice, but I don’t know that it’s long-term nice. Not with a front door that anyone can open and me sitting on a vast fortune of food and clothing supplies. There’s even a ton of batteries in the electronics department, and hunting stuff in sporting goods. There’s so much stuff here that someone would easily kill me for any of it.
I will destroy anyone that tries to harm you, Dakh tells me with a fierce mental surge.
He runs a gentle claw along the shell of my ear. We can skip the story and just mate instead.
I slither out of his arms with a tiny chuckle. “Somehow I knew that would be your suggestion. And that puts us back in the same situation that reading does—it doesn’t help us prepare for the future.”
Though after last night’s revelatory sex, it’s a whole lot more tempting now. I’m still reeling from the fact that I had not one but two intense orgasms. Exhausting orgasms, but amazing in every single way. I’m continually surprised by Dakh, not only that he’s more human than I thought, but he’s kinder and far cleverer, too. And he’s really, really great at sex.
I like these thoughts.
And nosy, I mentally add. Really, really nosy.
You think loudly.
I should, it’s my own damn head.
Why does it surprise you that I am good at mating or that I am more like you?
We did not choose to be here. He nips at my ear, sending shivers down my body. I care nothing for any of the native people here or their hives. I would conquer all of them if I needed to and take their corpses as spoils of victory.
Jeez, that’s a bloodthirsty, warlike thing to say. I slide out of Dakh’s arms, a little uneasy that that’s his idea of whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “Where did that come from?”
He tries to pull me close again. There is nothing wrong with being a conqueror. It is the preferable side of a war.
“Is that what you view this as? A war? It’s more like genocide to me.” I pluck his hand off of me and get to my feet, a little sensitive about the subject. “But maybe I’m touchy because I’m on the losing side.”
Dakh bounds to his feet and wraps his arms around my waist, dragging me against him once more and burying his face in my hair. Man, this guy loves touching. You are no longer on the losing side—you are on my side.
And I’m not sure that makes me feel better, because he’s the enemy, and if I’m now on his side, that means I’m turning my back on humankind. And while humankind hasn’t done much for me lately, it still feels wrong. I wonder if Claudia suffers these kinds of thoughts when she kisses her dragon or snuggles into bed with him at night. Or is mine the only warmonger?