Page 54 of Ale Storm

“They’ve not been simple tasks, even for a dragon.”

“I sure hope he appreciates you.”

“It is enough that you appreciate me.” His eyelids lowered, and he gazed at her through his lashes.

“Oh, I do.” Rylana was tempted to put aside the coffee and kiss him, but she needed to scour her mouth again before it would be acceptable for such activities. Instead, she gripped his hand and guided him to sit beside her on the bed. “I’d like to go on a date with you and find someplace private and wonderful where we can… express our affection for each other.”

“Do you refer to coitus?”

“Well, yes. That’s something I’m interested in. Or I will be when I’m not hungover and nursing a headache. You’re interested too, right?” She thought of the discussion they’d had in the park about dawn trees.

He gazed at her, watching her nibble on bacon and sip coffee. “I am interested in engaging in physical intimacy with you. As I’ve informed you previously, my quirky human body informs me often that it desires such activities. Even now, as I watch your lips touch that cup and think about stroking your hair, my male copulatory organ grows engorged.”

“You say the most romantic things to me.”

Jildarin cocked his head, and she waved away her comment.

“It’s a little different for women, but I also get aroused when I’m near you and thinking of sex. And when you touch me, I especially do.”

Jildarin considered that for a moment. “You experience vaginal lubrication and swelling of the clitoris and vulva?”

“Did you read about that in one of your books on biology?” She couldn’t imagine Zilek using such terminology.

“I did. You may also experience pupil dilation, skin flushing, and erect nipples.” He looked toward her chest.

His gaze was more curious than libidinous, but damn if her skin didn’t flush and her nipples tighten. He lifted a hand, as if he might reach out to touch her breast—to check the status of her nipples. Heat swept through her. Flushing, indeed.

She still had her headache and needed to use the lavatory, so this was hardly the time for her to encourage him to make a move, but she couldn’t resist the impulse to grasp his hand and pull it to her chest. At first, he hesitated, but his curiosity prompted him to explore her curves.

Another flush of desire swept through her, not as diminished as one would expect, given her hungover state. She thought about pulling her nightshirt over her head and letting him touch her bare skin. His hand shifted to her other breast, his lips parting as he stroked it. By the gods, that felt good.

“It is fascinating,” Jildarin murmured, watching her chest intently, “that body parts existing to facilitate the nursing of young can be arousing to a grown male of the species, but your breasts have an appealing shape and heft.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Maybe it was strange that his curious ministrations would make her hot, but they did. Even though he didn’t have the expertise of an experienced lover, his light touches sent zings of steamy pleasure to her core.

“I am growing… more aroused.” His voice had turned husky, and he shifted his gaze from her chest to her eyes. “I must stop this behavior until… I have not earned your father’s blessing.”

“A need for that is making things difficult.” She kept herself from saying unnecessarily difficult. Barely.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t released her. He didn’t want to. She could see the longing in his eyes as well as feel it in his touch. And she didn’t want him to release her. She shifted closer on the bed and⁠—

A knock at the carriage doors startled them both. They lowered their hands and scooted away from each other on the bed. Jildarin hopped off the bed, as if they’d been caught engaging in inappropriate behavior. Since they were grown adults, Rylana didn’t think so, but maybe he believed the gods would strike them down if they had sex before he had her father’s blessing. She sighed. Even though she understood his desire to follow a recipe, she wished Jildarin had never met her father and it hadn’t occurred to him to want his approval.

He looked toward the doors. “I sense dwarves outside the storeroom.”

Rylana groaned. “Not them again.”

She’d hoped the peacekeepers would detain those two for days—if not months. She started to say Jildarin shouldn’t open the door for them, but he frowned and walked toward it. There was a stiffness to his step, and he adjusted himself on the way.

Rylana snorted softly, pleased she aroused him but regretting that they’d been interrupted.

She slid off the bed and grabbed her clothes, intending to dress for the day, but when Jildarin opened the door and a deep but feminine voice spoke, curiosity sent Rylana out in her nightshirt. She paused to grab the horn, not trusting that a thief wouldn’t sneak in via the hallway and snatch it while she was distracted.

“I am Diplomat Shebly,” the female speaker said. “I am honored to meet you, Lord Jildarin-grozanarav.”