Chapter 5
Winona
My life falls into a steady pattern in the next few days. I wake up early to prepare a simple yet satisfying meal for Lord Avandair. He now insists that I take all my meals with him. I look forward to those hours the most.
Talking to him is like floating in a dream. Our conversations are effortless, interesting, and full of knowledge and insight. I am learning all kinds of new things about gargoyles, court politics, and the shipping business.
He doesn’t treat me like an idiot the way my father did.
“You’re a woman. You ain’t got the head for business,” Papa used to say.
But there’s no cold judgment in Lord Avandair’s eyes. The gargoyle shares information freely, feeding my curiosity just as I feed him my food.
That night, when I withdraw to my room after washing up and clearing away everything in the kitchen, an odd sensation trembles in my chest.
There’s something wrong with me.
An inexplicable heaviness blankets my body. A coiling tension keeps building behind my breasts, seeking release. But I don’t know how to loosen the tightness.
I clutch my breasts, staring out the window. Moonlight washes over me. There’s a full moon tonight. The herbs in the pouch Lord Avandair gave me lie scattered on the desk.
My nipples are sore. A pressure is pushing at my buds, dying to break free.
I felt strange things when I was speaking to Lord Avandair. My sex tingles when I’m in his presence. Wetness coats my folds. They’re begging to be touched now, to be pleasured and played with.
I wonder if my breasts will feel better if Lord Avandair’s large, strong hand cups them. I whimper. Heat strokes my belly at the image of Lord Avanair caressing my distended peaks with his smooth tongue.
Yes. I know the answer is yes.
When the weight in my chest intensifies, my throat closes.
I breathe.
I need my mate. I need him to soothe away this pain and make me relax.
I cry out, hoping he’ll hear me.