EMMA

I can pick the lock on the back of his collar.

The realization fills me with a weird sort of glee. It’s a basic lock, one that could be picked with a paperclip if I had nothing else. They didn’t bother to put something heavy duty on his collar, since no one in their right mind would be freeing a dragon.

I guess that makes me not in my right mind. I chuckle at the thought. All I need to do is get in there again and get some time alone with him. I can’t today, I don’t think. Not without anyone getting suspicious. 

I do not care if they are suspicious, Zohr tells me. I want you here. I did not get enough of your scent.

I’ll be there again as soon as I can, I promise him. Right now I have to make dinner.

I think about how I’m going to sneak out and visit Zohr again all through dinner. It’s stew tonight—because when you have a dozen people to feed and not a lot of meat, it’s stew most nights. Azar gets more pancakes and canned peaches, because he’s got a sweet tooth. I know how that is. I spend most days dreaming of cookies and candy bars. I’d give my left arm for chocolate right about now. Or ice cream. God, ice cream.

Your thoughts are fascinating. Food can give you such pleasure? Zohr’s mind touches mine, his thoughts curious and aroused all at once.

Only because I miss them so much, I admit to him. I lived in a big store before I got stuck with Azar’s bunch, and I think I pretty much ate everything in the cookie aisle. I send him mental images of the store itself and of the little nest I’d created for myself that I’d called home. I miss that store. I was safe there, and well fed. No one bothered me there…until Sasha and Dakh showed up. I don’t resent them for it, because I knew it was a matter of time before I was discovered. No good hiding spot lasts forever.

Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it, though. Or my cookies.

When we are free from here, we will find you more, Zohr promises. I will hunt them for you.

I chuckle to myself even as I chop a wizened, rubbery potato into the stew. Hunting cookies? They don’t exactly run fast.

From your mental image, they do not run at all. His tone sounds sour. Even I am not that much of a fool, Emma.

I snort-giggle to myself.

Carol gives me a weird look, handing over some diced carrots. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” I tell her. “Why?”

She just shrugs. “You’ve been acting strange ever since, that’s all. Wondered if you got more knocked out of you than you let on.”

“Nope,” I tell her cheerfully, and she narrows her eyes at me again. I think I’m being too friendly. Too smiley. No one’s happy in a nomad camp. I change my smile to a smirk. “But Artie missed you today on dragon-feeding duty.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes a bit of lank gray hair out of her face. “He try to give you a lick of his little worm? Tell him you ain’t interested unless he pays with the good stuff.”

Ew. I’m not interested at all. “I’ll let him save that for you.”

Carol nods and gives her sagging bosom a plumping, then adds the carrots to the stew. “Works for me. If he approaches you again, tell him I’m the only one that can give him the real goods.” She crooks a finger and wiggles it at me, then cackles. At my blank stare, she hoots with laughter even louder. “Prostate tickle, girl. That’s how you get any man to do what you want. You shove your finger up his ass when you’re blowin’ him and he’ll do anything you like.”

Jesus Christ. “Thanks,” I choke out. 

You are not doing that, Zohr sends fiercely to me.

Fuck no I’m not! The only thing I want to shove up Artie’s ass is the business end of a gun. I shudder.

Carol continues cackling to herself as we fix dinner, but I’m a little disturbed. Does she think I’m acting different than usual? She’s not the most observant, and she’s also not the only one to comment on it. I need to lay low.

But…I also can’t abandon Zohr.

If it is not safe…he warns.

I know. I’ll be careful. I just want to help you as much as I can. I think of him in his uncomfortable chains, trapped and helpless, and it tears at me.

I do not mind them so much. What I mind is that I need to see you. It is like a craving inside me. His thoughts grow husky with need, and I feel my body responding despite the fact that I’m in the hot, smoky little kitchen with the other two women. I need to touch you, Zohr tells me.

Soon, I promise him.

* * *

That night, though, I get up from my bed and put my jeans on. I grab my lockpicks from the hidden pocket in my bag and slide them into my pocket. Jack helped me make these, and they’ve come in handy far more times than I ever thought they would. I skip wearing shoes, since they’ll just make too much noise, and tiptoe down through the stairwell of the hotel. I make it to the bottom floor and creep toward the pool area. So far, so good.

To my dismay, it’s Kurt on guard duty again. He’s the same one who was on duty when I slipped in to have sex with Zohr. Well, shit. I can’t exactly use my ruse of, “Hey, Azar called you,” again on him. He’s dumb, but he’s not that dumb. 

I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to see you tonight, I tell Zohr as I retreat to my room. I’ll get busted for sure, and then we’re both screwed. I need to retreat and think of a new tactic.

I can feel the dragon-man’s disappointment in my mind as I lock the door to my room behind me. I understand.

No, you don’t, I tease, trying to lighten his mood.

I understand it. I do not like it, but I understand it. His thoughts grow heavy with resignation. Talk to me, then. Keep me company if you cannot come to my side.

I will, I vow to him. This is only temporary. I have my lockpicks and I know I can get that collar off you. We can probably get the other cuffs off, too, given enough time. I’ll have to check your vest to see what kind of fastenings it has. The trick will be getting that stuff off you while the others aren’t paying attention. Azar drugged my friend Sasha’s food. I wonder if I can get ahold of the same stuff and knock out the camp? That would work. I’m both excited and terrified at the thought. If they catch me, I’m dead.

Then again, if I run away with Zohr and they catch me, I’m dead anyhow. Dead woman walking, any way I look at it. I might as well try to save a dragon.

I will not let anything happen to you, he promises me. You are mine to protect.

Which is tricky, considering he’s locked up. I slide my jeans off, re-hide my lockpicks, and then crawl back into bed.

That is the worst part of my captivity—knowing that my mate is unsafe while I am held down.

Well, look at the bright side of things, I tell him as I fluff my pillow. At least you got a mate out of this.

His thoughts are silent for a long moment. You…have a unique way of looking at things, my Emma. I did not think of that, but you are right. It helps my resentment a little.

I smile into the darkness of my room. Glad I could be of service. I learned a long time ago that if you dwell on the bad stuff, it’ll bring you down. Focus on the positive and control what you can.

Right now the only thing in my control is our mind-link. His frustration seeps over to my thoughts.

Then focus on it, I tell him cheerily. Focus on me.

You are my world already. How can I focus on you more?

“Try,” I mutter aloud so he doesn’t hear me.

Astonishment blooms in my mind, and then laughter. You are frustrated with me? Because I do not try? He sounds amused.

Me? I’m embarrassed to get caught. How did you hear that?

I can hear your spoken words. I can see what you see, feel what you feel. Our minds are connected. It is the sharing of spirits. Do you not see through my eyes?

Do I? I close my eyes and mentally try to squint, but the only thing I get is a scattershot of images, and those feel more like thoughts than actual sights. “I’m not sure that I am.”

Maybe the link is not as strong with a human. He sounds troubled. Or perhaps because you rejected my seed—

I gasp aloud. “Bullshit! I didn’t reject anything. I told you I was in a hurry!”

For a drakoni, the greatest insult is to reject one’s seed. 

Well, it wasn’t a rejection! I almost tell him that next time he can come inside me, but then I stop myself, because I don’t know that there will be a next time.

Oh, there will be. His thoughts are a sultry purr. You are my mate. I intend on claiming every bit of you. Next time, you will not straddle me when we mate. I will be the one on top and I will mount you properly.

And even though I should be outraged or annoyed at his high-handedness and the fact that he’s plucking thoughts I don’t want to share, I’m a little turned on by his words. He sends a visual to me of his golden body over mine, his chest pressed to my back as he covers me and fucks me from behind.

I had no idea that the mind-link between us would be this…intimate. Sasha had said it was a link via mating, but I never thought…

Whew. Clearly I did not think this one through. I bite my lip, my breath coming quick, and I feel a flush moving through my body. Zohr, we’re strangers. I need to get to know you better before I think about having sex with you again.

Lies. I can tell in your thoughts that you like the images I send you. His tone is sexy, entreating, as if he’s going to seduce me with words alone. If I cannot touch your body, I can at least touch your mind, can I not?

I should tell him no, but it seems like such a small thing. And we’re already bonded, right? Right. So it shouldn’t matter.

Just like it shouldn’t matter that my hand is stealing between my thighs, sliding under my panties.

You touch yourself? The growl that permeates my mind is delicious. Is it because you dislike our mental bond so much?

“Oh, touché.” Guess I walked into that one. I’m not touching myself, I lie.

I can practically feel him snort with derision.

It almost feels like a challenge or a dare at this point to respond to him. Kind of like…a flirty game between us. I slip a finger between my folds, and I’m not surprised to find that I’m wet. Really wet. How can I not be? He’s confronting me about sex and I can’t squirm away. A tiny part of me is appalled, but an even bigger part is aroused at being cornered and forced to acknowledge my desires. 

I like the images he’s sending to me. I like his possessive demeanor.

And I’m fascinated at the thought of more between us. It’s not safe, but maybe that’s part of the appeal. Maybe I’m drawn to his wildness as much as anything. 

You like the thought of being mine, he sends back. 

“I’m my own person,” I whisper, but in my head, I’m still imagining his big golden body covering me. I think about how warm his skin would feel against mine, and I wonder what it’d be like to kiss him.

Kiss? 

You don’t know what a kiss is? I feel silly, because of course we didn’t kiss when I went to see him. I was in a hurry. Maybe I should have kissed him. I send a mental image of mouths meeting, of tongues tangling together, and I get even more aroused at the thought of what it’d be like.

Have you kissed many? he asks me.

None, I admit. I was too young when we left the fort, and then I stayed with Jack, who was like a dad more than anything else. After that, I was alone and didn’t spend time with anyone. A loner in the After doesn’t get a lot of play.

But I remember seeing them in movies and reading about it in books. I’ve seen other kisses since then, too, but they weren’t kisses like I like to remember them. In my mind, kisses are soft, gentle things full of love and affection. They’re not like the kisses I’ve seen the nomads give to Carol, which seem more like a punishment than anything, or the kisses that the whores back at Fort Tulsa would give to anyone who could pay.

Kisses should be special.

Like my seed.

I giggle, because they don’t seem similar at all to me. Sure, we’ll go with that.

I would kiss you correctly, Zohr tells me. However you want it. As often as you want my mouth on you. And he sends me another sexy visual. This time, he’s on top of me, pumping between my thighs, and I moan aloud at the sight. I watch our bodies move in fascination, and when the mental-Zohr tugs on mental-Emma’s hair to pull her back against him so he can kiss her? I press a finger deep inside my core, aching. Now that I’ve had sex with Zohr, I feel different inside somehow. Hollow with arousal, like I’ve got a piece missing. It never felt like that before.

Your body misses mine.

I think he’s right. I gasp at the realization and slide my fingers back to my clit, stroking it. I know he can feel this, just as he can feel everything I’m thinking. I can feel his arousal, as well, the unfulfilling ache of his cock as he thinks of me, the frustration.

Do not think of me trapped, he sends, thoughts heavy with desire. Think of me with you. My mouth on yours. I would taste you everywhere.

And he sends a visual of me on all fours, with his face between my thighs, tasting me—

I cry out softly as a tiny release ripples through me. My thighs clench tightly together, and I pull my hand away because it’s too much. Orgasms get overwhelming fast, and it’s like playing with fire. I only get close enough to get warm, not to get burned.

That is where you are wrong, my mate. Zohr’s sultry thoughts blanket my own chaotic ones. You should let the fire consume you. I will show you how when we come together once more.

I can’t decide if I’m a little worried or fascinated at the thought.