Fire in His Kiss - Page 29/89

I snort at that. I have carried my Sasha many times and she has never viewed it as romantic. This story is foolish.

Sasha pauses in her reading and glances up at me. “What?”

I stroke her hair.

“You just snorted. Is something wrong?”

I caress her cheek, acting as if I do not understand her words. “Sasha.”

She gives me a strange look and then settles back in, returning to her book. “Strange dragon,” she mutters.

Dirk carried her a ways away from the pirate ship and onto the sandy shore. There, in the distance, he’d set up a picnic blanket, full of delicious foods arranged on a lovely blanket. How thoughtful he was! How caring! To think that Dirk had done all of this for her, right down to the flowers. She felt loved and cosseted. She felt like he truly cared for her to make such a show of things. And it made her want to put her arms around his neck and kiss him until all of her worries about the future went away. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her.

My interest perks. The male puts a blanket on the ground for the female and she wishes to mate with him? The mental images I am receiving from Sasha’s mind seem to agree with this. Is this another human ritual I have perhaps missed?

“My beauty,” Dirk told Ophelia as he laid her down on the blanket. “I have prepared a picnic feast for you, with all of the most delicious treats I could imagine, but none of them compare to the taste of your lips.”

“Dirk!” she cried. “How I love you! Take me in your arms and never let me go, ever again.”

In her mind, my Sasha sighs happily. She is pleased by this strange story, and as it goes on, I can see from the visual in her mind that the humans do, indeed, begin to mate. The descriptions continue, and I find myself getting aroused at the way my Sasha is picturing them—and how it affects her. When Dirk pulls the panties off of Ophelia and places his mouth between her thighs and Sasha gets excited?

It makes it very clear to me what I must do.

I must give my mate a picnic. I will find a shore, some flowers, and some food to lay down on a blanket. Then I will wait for her to press her mouth to mine and demand that I mate with her.

This sounds perfect.

 

The next morning, as I hunt my meal, I think about my mate’s picnic. It must be just right, I decide. I want my Sasha to be so pleased with her picnic that she cannot help but fall into my arms, her mating scent overwhelming.

Yes, I like that idea.

I start with the colorful plants she refers to as “flowers.” I can find none that match the visual image she had in her mind. Most of the plants are withered and brown, either from dragon-fire or the chill in the air. I do find a bush that is green, the leaves glossy. Surely this is the same thing. Pleased, I dig it up with my claws and carry it as I look for the next item. Food is simple. They ate a sort of bird in the story. I snap up one of the passing birds and swallow it, testing. It is no more than a morsel, but I suppose it is tasty if one does not mind feathers. I catch up with another group of them and flush one out of the air with fire. It drops like a stone to the ground, and I scoop it up.

Human females must be easy to please, I decide. This venture is not so difficult. Though “easy to please” is not how I would describe my Sasha. I study the roasted bird I carry in one claw, and the bush in the other. Perhaps I am getting this wrong? Mentally, I review the images I have in my mind after Sasha’s story. Plants. Food. Picnic. No, I am correct.

I fly off in search of the perfect spot to set up my picnic. Somewhere with water.

 

 

16

 

 

SASHA

 

I yawn, stretching as I wake up from my nap. Whatever flu that seems to have knocked me out yesterday has passed, thank goodness. I feel much better today. Less achy, less tired, and I’m hungry again. I grab a sleeve of stale crackers and nibble on them as I sit up, looking around for my dragon. The store is quiet, and that means I’m all by myself at the moment. He must be out hunting.

Weird how I feel a little lonely at that realization. I must be needier than I thought. After Claudia got exiled, though, and Amy disappeared to go hunt for her sister, I felt abandoned and alone. I hated that feeling, more than anything. It’s not that I need people to feed me or take care of me, but…I want to matter to someone. Maybe that’s why I feel emotionally attached to the dragon even though he should be the enemy. When he’s around, he acts like I’m the only thing in his world. It’s…nice.

Of course, now that we’ve had sex, he’s flying off and leaving me alone, and I wonder if this means he’s one foot out the door.

I shouldn’t care about that. Really. But it would just be another checkmark in a long list of Sasha-abandoners. After a while, you start wondering what’s so terrible about you that makes everyone leave, and that’s not a good feeling.

I get dressed in a fresh pair of panties, a new bra, and another sundress and some sandals. Since I have a whole store full of clothing to use, I don’t plan on wearing anything a second time if I can help it. I straighten up my little bedroom area and sigh happily as I put away my books. Yesterday was so nice. I read and ate snacks in bed like I didn’t have a care in the world. When was the last time I had a full day just to be lazy and relax while someone else took care of me? Dakh waited on me like I was a princess and stroked my hair and skin while I read, just because he wanted to be near me.

I…wish he didn’t want sex. He’d be a great companion otherwise.

Of course, if he didn’t want sex, he wouldn’t have kidnapped me, so I guess there’s no use banging that drum. I tidy things up and then pull out a book of crossword puzzles, glancing back up at the entrance of the store. Still no Dakh. Huh. Normally he hunts quickly and then returns just as quickly. I thought it was because he didn’t like leaving me alone.

What if…what if he’s not coming back?

I swallow hard at the thought. What if I’m not worth the hassle anymore? I shake my head to rid it of such negative thoughts. Emma wouldn’t give a shit if she was abandoned. Neither would Claudia, come to think of it. Both of them would work hard to survive and kick ass no matter what. I need to be more like them.

Emma. I tap my pen on the crossword book, thinking about the lone woman. She hasn’t come back despite the fact that it’s been days. I thought—hoped—that she’d at least scope the place out and see if we’d abandoned it. I wouldn’t mind having another person to talk to.