Chapter 39
THERON
I lead her to the base of the root.
The ground here is softer than the rest of the forest floor—thick with moss and short green grass that springs gently under our feet. The air feels different too—quieter somehow, as though the massive tree above us is listening…watching. Perhaps waiting for our sacrifice.
“This will do,” I murmur.
Elowen hesitates for just a moment, then lets me guide her down. I lower her carefully onto the grass, my hands lingering a little longer than they should at her waist before I force myself to pull back.
The moment I do, my Drake stirs.
“Now,” he growls, low and eager. “Take her. Taste her. I want to taste her too.”
My jaw tightens.
No, I tell him silently. No, you can’t.
He pushes harder, insistent.
“She wants us. I can feel it. Let me taste her. Let me take what is ours.”
She would be frightened, I argue, keeping my expression neutral as I look down at her. You come forward like that, she won’t understand.
The Drake huffs, irritated.
“I would be gentle. I would taste her sweetness. I would put my tongue inside her—give her pleasure—“
Enough, I snap inwardly. Stop begging –the answer is no. I drag in a slow breath, forcing him back. You hold back, I tell him. Let me handle this.
There’s a long, tense pause between us. Then, reluctantly, the Drake withdraws.
He’s not gone, exactly—he can’t ever leave me completely. But he’s stepping to the very back of my mind. Which is good—I can’t concentrate like I need to and argue with him at the same fucking time.
I let out a quiet breath and turn my full attention back to Elowen.
Lying there on the soft green grass, her ruby-colored hair fanned out around her like spilled wine, her eyes wide and uncertain as she looks up at me.
Gods, she’s beautiful.
For a moment, I just stand there, looking at her—taking her in. My chest tightens again, that now-familiar ache settling deep inside me.
Mine.
The thought comes unbidden—and I shove it away just as quickly.
She’s not mine—not really and not for long.
I reach for the tie at her robe, my fingers brushing lightly against the fabric and see her eyes widen.
There’s uncertainty in their sky blue depths—a flicker of nerves.
“It's all right, baby,” I murmur, keeping my voice low and steady. “Not going to hurt you or take more than you're ready to give. Just let me see you.”
Her cheeks go pink immediately, the color spreading across her face in a way that makes something low in my belly tighten. Fuck, she’s so fucking gorgeous!
“Well…” she says softly. “I guess you've, er, seen me before.”
I let out a hungry breath that sounds more like a growl.
“Which is why I want to see you again—because I fucking love the sight of all your luscious naked curves,” I tell her.
She nibbles her lower lip—the small, nervous gesture doing absolutely nothing to help my self-control.
“All right,” she says softly. “But you know, the girls at the dorm always said I was, um…you know, too curvy.”
Something sharp and protective flares in my chest.
“No such thing,” I tell her firmly.
And I mean it. I’ve always loved curvy women—with a male my size, you don’t want to be with a tiny, delicate flower. I’m always afraid I might break them by accident. I love a woman with some substance—love the feel of soft curves against my hardness.
I untie the robe slowly, giving her time to change her mind if she wants to—but she doesn’t stop me. The fabric parts beneath my hands, revealing her.
My breath catches at what I see. She was naked last night, of course, but that was by firelight. Now, in the dappled sunlight coming through the vast leaves above, I can see her more fully and I like what I see.
Her skin is soft and creamy—touched with a faint flush that spreads across her chest and down her stomach. Her breasts rise and fall with her quickening breaths, her nipples already tight, pink, and sensitive-looking in the cool air.
My gaze drifts down, taking in the soft curve of her belly, the gentle swell of her full hips and thick thighs…and the mound of ruby curls between them. It matches the color of her head perfectly.
Gods.
The sight of her hits me hard—hard enough that I feel it all the way through my body—a deep, aching pull that settles low and heavy.
She’s fucking perfect and she doesn’t even know it.
Elowen shifts slightly under my gaze, clearly aware of how intently I’m looking at her. She looks nervous…vulnerable. That alone is enough to snap me back to myself.
“Hey,” I murmur, lowering myself down beside her, one hand coming to rest lightly on her hip. “Take it easy, baby. I’m just admiring you.”
“Really?” She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.
“Really. Everything is going to be all right,” I tell her softly. “I’ll go slow—we have all the time in the world.”
Which is a good thing, because I need it. I need the time to hold myself back…to do this right. To make sure she doesn’t feel rushed.
I want to take my time with my curvy little priestess—want to savor her.
The Drake shifts beneath my skin again, restless but contained, watching through my eyes as I look down at her.
“Ours,” he murmurs, quieter now.
I don’t answer him this time—I just keep my focus on Elowen. On the way her fingers curl slightly in the grass…on the way her chest rises and falls.
On the way she looks at me like she’s not entirely sure what’s about to happen…but trusts me anyway.
Seeing that look in her eyes twists my heart. I want to be worthy of her trust—I want to make her feel good, not just fulfill the sacrifice that little leaf person claimed was needed.
I know she’s never been tasted before, and I know she’s shy…I just hope I can make this good for her.