27. Johree
JOHREE
As my climax subsided, I felt my venom sacs shrink as the last of their contents flooded my mate’s bloodstream.
I pulled my fangs free, licking at the wounds they left so that my saliva’s medicinal properties would seal them, aiding their healing.
I rolled us over so he was nestled faceup against my side, half on and half off my chest, my wings spread wide beneath us.
“’S warm,” he said, sounding drunk, his fingers reaching up to probe at the marks.
I batted his hand away, giving the bite another lick before answering.
“That’s the venom. You’ll have a small scar, and your scent will change so that you will always carry my scent mingled with yours. And, ah, if you were Dragonii, your scales would take on a golden hue over whatever color your lineage already gave you.”
“Oh. But I’m not Dragonii.”
“No, but you’re mine, and you’re perfect.”
“Mm. Love you,” he slurred, already drifting into sleep.
I gently disentangled us, folding my wings away.
I smirked at the sight he made before me, looking completely debauched and fucked-out, his leanly muscled body glistening with sweat and cum.
He didn’t so much as stir as I padded off to our bathroom, and when I returned moments later with a warm, wet cloth and cleaned him up, he simply smiled in his sleep and sighed happily.
I climbed back onto the bed, gently tugged the folded throw at the bottom over us, and took him back into my arms. Outside, I could hear our guests still dancing to music and the sounds of bots coming and going as they took down the tables and brought in the leftover food, taking it downstairs to the staff kitchen and storage area.
I let the sounds of our new home wash over me as I breathed in Jesse’s changing scent while the transformation took hold, finally drifting off to sleep myself.
“Goooood morning, New Haven!”
Jesse and I both jolted awake at Bob’s loud, cheerful voice.
“It’s seven in the morning, and today in Walnut Grove, it’s currently sixty-three degrees Fahrenheit, with a high later today of eighty-two.
So put on your short sleeves and make sure you’ve got plenty of fluids to drink, because it’s gonna be a hot one—unless you’re a Dragonii.
Nice, comfy basking temps if that’s the case, so enjoy your day! ”
“Bob, what the hell are you doing?” Jesse demanded.
“The morning wake-up show. We talked about this, remember?”
I chuckled, kissing his temple.
“He did mention it.”
“Yeah, well, I thought he’d come back later with a start date, which would not be today. We got married yesterday!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I need coffee before I can deal with any more shit.”
I chuckled.
“There you are! It’s waiting for you in the replicator.”
I got up, removing the steaming mug from the replicator next to our dresser.
We’d had it put in for lazy mornings, but it looked like it would get a lot more use than that.
I made a mental note to set a vibrating alarm on my wrist comm so I could get up before Bob woke him and have a cup ready and waiting.
“Thanks,” Jesse said, sitting up and stuffing his pillows behind his back. His cheeks turned pink. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
I was trying to figure out how to tell him that he had developed a scale-like pattern along his shoulders and neck in a pale, buttery metallic gold when Bob did it for me.
“Oh, nice scales. Are they actual skin or just markings?”
“What?” Jesse asked, sloshing his coffee as he set it down abruptly on the bedside table to look. “Oh, wow. They feel like markings, but with a bit of texture.”
I stroked a finger over them.
“I think they are emerging scales, the small, soft ones like I have on my cock.”
He gaped at me.
“I have magic dick scales on my neck?”
A laugh escaped me.
“You think my dick is magic?”
He turned a deep red, flushing all the way down to his chest.
“No! Well, I mean yes, but that’s not what I meant!”
I chuckled.
“I have similar ones on my cheek, along my scent glands, only larger. These are finer, is all.”
“Like the ones on your dick.”
“And my tongue,” I conceded.
“Everyone will know I’m yours just by looking, even without the crown,” he said, looking giddy at the prospect. “The scales go all the way up my neck, yeah?”
“They do,” I replied, kissing his neck softly, loving the feel of the nascent scales against my lips.
He shivered.
“Ohh, they’re sensitive.”
“We’ll have to explore that later.”
He nodded, wincing as he shifted his legs.
“Maybe in a day or two. My ass is sore.”
Guilt swamped me. I should have applied salve or kept him awake longer and placed him in the bath with healing salts.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. I like feeling you still. Just not quite this much, but it’ll taper off. I just don’t think we should have a repeat of last night until I need a reminder of what the morning after feels like.”
He winked, letting me know he really wasn’t in agony, simply sore. I heaved a sigh of relief.
A soft knock sounded at our door. I frowned, knowing we wouldn’t be disturbed this early unless it was important.
I got up, not caring that I was nude. It wouldn’t be the first time my guards had seen me this way, like the time a reporter managed to bribe a new guard and was caught trying to take photos of me in the shower.
I found Kiprr standing there. He bowed, giving me a chagrined look.
“Sorry for the interruption to your morning, but I thought Jesse would want to know Buster is having his breakfast in the kitchen. Rosie says she is making something called French toast with bread she made using flour she ground herself from local wheat, and there is replicated bacon and Canadian maple syrup.”
“I heard that!” Jesse called from the bed. “Thanks for seeing to Buster, and please ask Rosie to hold breakfast for half an hour. I want to finish my coffee first and stuff before coming down.”
“Will do!”
He tilted his head to indicate that what he said next was best said out of Jesse’s hearing, for the moment at least. I followed him out into the hall, closing the door behind me.
“What is it?”
“I thought you should know that the town is full of paparazzi. They began arriving around three this morning. Bob has instituted a method to weed out the most undesirable, or so he says.”
I cocked an eyebrow in inquiry.
“Uh, he and Xeranos both told Kaelor that if people didn’t have a sense of humor, they weren’t very nice. So Bob’s making them listen to jokes. If they don’t laugh, they don’t get to land.”
I stared at him, then shrugged.
“Why not? The Tyridium have concurred that no measurable harm has resulted from Bob’s sense of humor, or shall, however questionable we find his jokes. As long as he doesn’t say anything offensive, it’s as valid a landing-clearance protocol as any, I suppose.”
He blinked at me.
“I guess.”
I grinned.
“Besides, it will infuriate the paparazzi, and just think how petty they will appear if they publicly complain about being told a knock-knock joke or a riddle.”
Understanding flooded his face, and he chuckled.
“You’re right. I guess it’ll do for now, then. I’ll let Kaelor know your decision.”
I gave him a nod of thanks.
“Do that. And join us for breakfast in the kitchen.”
I turned and went back inside.
I had a sore mate to tend to so he could sit comfortably at the breakfast table.