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“Guess.” He runs a finger down my arm, following the movement with his gaze.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know a dragon’s lifespan or how you age. There’s no way I can guess.”
“Then let’s not worry about a number. I’m middle-aged by dragon standards. Just a little older than you in relation to each of our lifespans.”
I spin around to face him, then immediately start pacing. “This is like a stupid Twilight situation, isn’t it? I’m gonna get old while you stay young. This isn’t going to work.”
I throw my hands up, all that doubt I was fighting suddenly front and center in my mind. That sex was a dream—this entire night is a dream. But dreams end. Girls get old and dragons live on. At least, it’s better that I know now before getting more attached.
The problem is, I already feel attached—more attached than seems reasonable for such a short time. How is it he’s captured my heart so completely? Am I just a needy, pathetic girl who wants to be rescued from her life, and falls at the feet of the first man who showers her with attention and gifts? Am I that shallow? Is that all this is?
“Look at me, gem.”
The power in his voice rubbles through every cell in my body and stops me in my tracks. Our eyes lock.
“Tomorrow, the Week of the Goddess begins. There will be choices to make. For now, just believe me when I say there are options.” We stare at each other for what feels like centuries and nanoseconds at the same time.
“Come here. Now.”
I cross the room and stop in front of him. He spins me around so I’m facing the mirror again and walks us forward a few steps.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” He paints a line down my face with the back of his forefinger.
I shake my head.
“You are my equal. My Queen. Destined for me by the goddess. When I look at you, I see my future.”
“But you can’t mean it. You don’t even know me. I’m nobody. A dog-walker. A human… Is that it? Are you just trying something new?”
His eyes narrow in the mirror. His hand comes to the base of my throat. Gentle, but firm. Unyielding. “I won’t tolerate you degrading yourself. Do you understand?”
I quiver against his body. Lean into his warmth. The hand on my neck slides down and cups my pussy like he owns it.
“Listen and listen well. You are not a distraction, a substitution, a placeholder, an experiment, a test, or something I’m trying out. You are my Queen. The one I’ve waited centuries to find. My greatest treasure.”
With one hand on my pussy, the other grabs my hair and tilts my head. He sucks on my neck for a moment before he says, “You are my Ra’a.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, remembering how he called me that before.
He plants a soft kiss on the spot he just sucked. “It means you’re fated for me. My mate. If you let me, I’ll take care of every need you have, the most mundane and the most corporal.” His grin is downright feral as the hand in my hair lets go and twists my nipple, pinching more pleasure out of me and making me drip with need. “I’ll command your body and treasure your heart. Always. From this day on.”
“You don’t even know me,” I whisper, my mind still fighting what some other part of me already knows.
He pulls me closer, but holds me more softly. “My soul knows yours, my queen. That’s what it means to be a fated mate. Our souls were made for each other.”
We stand there like that for a long while. The light from the flickering fire casts us in golden hues that reflect off of the gold in my dress. I lean against him, absorbing his warmth and confidence.
After a time, he loosens his hold and slowly unzips my gown. He pushes one sleeve off my shoulder and then the other. The fabric slides off my body like water, pooling at our feet.
There’s no urge to cover myself as he takes in my fully naked form. He’s looking at me in the mirror with an expression of complete adoration. He admires me with the focus of a sculptor admiring a masterpiece.
I turn around and take a step back so I can see him, too. The fire in his eyes burns bright. I drag a finger down his chest and his abs tense and tighten. I wonder if dragons need to work out or if they’re just supernaturally fit. He’s very fit.
His cock hardens again, tattoos glowing with golden light almost as bright as the fire. Those swirling patterns make me think of some kind of magical wand.
“You have a magic dick.”
His laugh is hearty, and it echoes through the room, like it’s been longing to escape for a very long time.
