It’s far too late, and as I turn back to him, his limp arms and the unmistakable bulge in his crotch means he also enjoyed the back view.
Dear god. I drop my head back for an instant, suppressing a groan. This was the last way I wanted to ever see Driok again. Not only giving him the opportunity to demonstrate what a colossal arsehole he is, but also to give him the show of the century, here on Vorostor.
“I think you’ll find I’myourarrogant Sarkarnii.” Driok seems to have recovered some of his senses as he strides out of thewater, and his huge bulk fills the beach, causing a shadow over me.
“Absolutely not. I don’t want a Sarkarnii, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be you.” I glare up at him, clutching my towel tightly and attempting to inch towards my clothing.
In a lightning move, which these huge creatures should really not be capable of, Driok has hold of my chin between his massive clawed fingers, the tips of which could easily remove an eye without a second thought.
“No other Sarkarnii will ever touch you, nor even look at you,” he rasps, his eyes dark. “Or I will remove their hands and their eyes.”
“Delightful.” I stare up at him. His chin has the haze of a scruff, not like the last time I saw him, and along with his bulkier appearance, there is something different about Driok. “Perhaps I prefer no blood spilt in my name.”
“It will be in my name, spitfire,” Driok rasps. “Because no one touches my mate.”
I jerk backwards, breaking out of his clutches.
“I am not your mate. You made that perfectly clear…last time…by leaving me without a word,” I spit at him, grabbing my clothing and stomping into the vegetation, grumbling to myself as I pull on my knickers. “And I made it perfectly clear there wouldn’t be another time either!” I shout.
There is silence.
Perhaps he has taken the hint. I might beconnectedto Driok in ways I’d rather I was not, but it doesn’t mean I’m anything to him or he’s anything to me. Especially as he’d rather go off into space than…
Then there is a sharp crack behind me. I spin around, my clothes clutched to my still bare chest. There’s nothing there.
Damn these Sarkarnii.
“Spitfire.” The word is growled in my ear, and despite myself, I must levitate about a foot off the ground, my clothing flying in the air as I release a pathetic scream.
Driok is close, far too close to me. His nostrils flare as he wraps one huge hand around my upper arm.
“If you want me to chase you, I will chase you, little female.” His eyes blaze. “I love the chase and you are a prize worth winning.”
“Let go of me.” I twist in his grip, very aware of the way my boobs are flopping around.
What did I see in Driok when we did the deed and I woke up in his bed? I should have never, ever drunk the ale wine.
Driok doesn’t say anything. Instead he’s staring at me once again. The boobs have done it, of course. I wouldn’t have called them mesmerizing, but apparently they are.
Except he’s not looking at my boobs. Driok’s gaze is lower. It’s on my abdomen.
On my stomach. My ever-so-slightly swollen stomach, given what I’ve got in there.
“Little mate…” He breathes roughly, one hand reaching out and touching me. “You are with sarkarnling.”
MAGGIE
Scarlett
You’re what?
Kerra
With Driok?
Rosalie
You do know he’s also called the Butcher of Haldane, don’t you?
