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"Dramon," I pant as I push back and forth on the furs beneath me. The blankets are so flat that the friction is pathetic. I might as well be fucking air.

"You can say my name a million times and it will not change a thing."

"Husband," I try again.

"That will not work either."

"I'm in pain," I whine. "It hurts so much. I can stand any pain except this excruciating one. Do you truly wish to torture me?"

"I'm in pain too," he groans. "I cannot do more than this."

"I promise you that..." I pant. "I will not be angry if you touch me."

"No. I will not risk it," he replied with finality. "If you want my body, then you must ask for it while you are thinking straight."

"I'm thinking straight. One plus one equals three. See? I'm fine."

He frowned. "That is incorrect. Two digits equal two."

"If you fuck me enough times, there will be three of us."

A guttural sound came from him, and he shook me a little. "Quit this. Relieve yourself and I will put you to sleep."

"Will you tuck me under my blankets?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you tuck that thick di—"

"Stop," he interjected. "Finish so you may rest."

I whined. "I'm trying." After five minutes of awkward fumbling that I can only hope looks sexy, I drop my hips with defeat. "It's not working!"

Dramon groaned. "I will release you, but you must promise to keep your hands to yourself."

"I promise."

The second he releases me, I sit up and jump him. He's ready for me that time. His enormous hands pin my arms to my sides and still me on his thigh.

"I couldn't help it," I whisper while keeping my eyes locked on his lips. They're an odd color— not pinkish like mine, but a hint of blue and silver. I've never studied him this closely, always distracted by the effects he has on me.

He's handsome. A male in his prime with too many rough bone sculptures and scars to be considered beautiful. He doesn't have eyelashes or eyebrows as humans do. Some bits and pieces are missing, but he's endowed in many other places.

When he turns his face, I realize that I've been leaning in. My mouth lands on his cheekbone. He denies me even the touch of his lips.

"You know that I have to pin you back to the bed," he warns.

"No. Please!"

"You will thank me tomorrow for this."

"Wait. Wait, please. Let me just..." I think quickly.

I can't go back to bed. I'll only continue melting in agony if he presses me against those dead, stiff blankets.

"Your thigh?" I lick my lips. "Can I ride it?"

"You cannot."

"But you're technically not touching me! It will be all me. You won't enjoy any pleasure, so it's aright."

He hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Well, think of it while I..." I thrust my hips forward and groan. The sinewy thigh under me is much better than those blankets. Every part of this man was made to satisfy me.

I rock against him while slowly inching toward the middle of his lap. I know what's nestled there, and I want it more than I want air in my lungs.

Dramon's hands find my hips and pull me back to his thigh. He won't let me ride his cock, no matter how much I beg.

I groan with defeat and wrap my arms around his neck. With our chests plastered, I ride his thigh. He's getting nothing out of this, but it means everything to me.

His hands remain on my hips to keep me still, and his chest is vibrating with low groans as I paint his pants with my slick.

Every thrust calms the fire. I'm flying toward freedom as I'm perched atop my husband's thigh. It feels so relieving that I want to cry, although I haven't shattered yet.

I speed up my thrusting. This is nothing like my younger years when I was discovering sexuality and I rubbed against my pillow in the silence of the night. I'm grinding on flesh and bone now under the red sun of Dramon's eyes.

I'm riding him so fast that my clit feels numb, but there is life inside of me. I desperately push what remains of his shirt off his shoulders and I lift my own to press our bare bellies together. I have his skin against mine, I'm digging my nails into him, but it's not enough. I need him inside.

Frustrated that I haven't orgasmed yet, I pause my gasps to groan. I've been in this position for too long, and my knee is getting agitated from its bent position. That pain doesn't stop me, though. I'd rather suffer that than let the inferno inside me keep burning.

I shift my knee a little, and Dramon seems to notice. He stands up, and I voice my complaints.

Dramon ignores me. He reaches for my bad leg and hooks it over his forearm so he's holding it up. Now that it's bent at a less stressful angle, the pain diminishes.

He looks down at me while I cling to his shoulders and grits out, "finish."

I need no more encouragement. As I stand on one leg and let him support my other, I enjoy his thick thigh until my back arches and I sag until he has to support all of my weight. The fire is gone, exhausted by the wetness that spills out of me.

I feel like I've been running for a year. The weight of whatever the Seer did to me is finally registering on my body. That one orgasm took all of my energy.

Dramon guides me down to my bedroll, and I barely notice him re-arranging my clothes. As he promised, he tucks me in and kneels beside me as I blink sleepily at the roof of the tent. I close my eyes, and I'm instantly dead to the world.

When I come back to my senses hours later, it's morning, and I'm suicidal.

I pace back and forth in my tent like Dramon did yesterday. Everything I told him is burned into my mind.

"Just the tip," I mutter in disbelief. "What the burns were you thinking, Venus? What is wrong with you?"

I cover my face and hope to disappear. How can I ever make eye contact with Dramon again? I clung to him like a prostitute desperate for a coin. I can never act high and mighty in front of him again.

My thighs are still unwashed this morning. I haven't gathered the courage to go outside. I remember everything from that humiliating night. My begs, negotiations, and Dramon's refusal to please me.

Maybe Treysa will trample me to death if I ask nicely enough.

The Seer got what she wanted. I know what's in Dramon's mind now, and sex isn't the only thing. He wants more from me, and that makes my hate crumble.

I peek outside. Dramon is busier than ever. All the reports he pushed aside yesterday can't be avoided any longer. He talks with his men in the same clothes he wore last night. The stain of my orgasm remains on his thigh, and the realization makes me light-headed with embarrassment.

I avoid him the entire day. I help Clan members take down tents and hide whenever he comes nearby. We've made eye contact here and there, but I always break it and disappear.

It's night now, and the snow is nearly melted. I wish my last encounter with Dramon could disappear as easily.

I'm afraid that he now thinks I'm a sex-crazed animal. I'm humiliated but relieved nothing happened between us. Dramon did the right thing in pushing me aside.

With a sigh, I walk toward the hot springs that someone pointed to. My body could use some relaxation after everything I've gone through. The night is chilly, and I'd rather wash it off in the springs than slip under the blankets I humped.

Treysa follows me. The walk is long, but I'm not worried about being alone. I'm quick to dip a foot into the warm water. Satisfied, I turn to Treysa to turn a torch on.

The sound of water trickling makes me realize that I'm not alone.

"Did you follow me here?"

Fires and Waters. It's Dramon.

I turn to run but accidentally slam into Treysa. She huffs as if laughing, while I try to collect my scrambled thoughts.

I hear a lazy chuckle coming from the springs. "If you are going to peep on me, you need to be more discreet, wife."

But I wasn't following him! I've been trying to hide all day!

"Was last night not enough for you?"

Instead of answering him, I throw myself over Treysa, nearly breaking my neck, and command her to ride out of there. As we gallop away, I hear Dramon's laugh in the distance.

"Treysa," I whisper. "Will you please trample me to death?"


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