Happy Wednesday, my lovelies!
Andros tilted his head and stared into the distance. He was quiet for a few minutes, observing the sky and the gathering clouds. Amaia took the chance to observe him. He was unlike any man she´d ever met. His eyes were green flecked with yellow and curtained by dark lashes. His nose was bumpy, a bit big and not particularly beautiful, yet, it suited his face like the last piece of a puzzle. His square jaw was dusted by a dark beard, the thin line of a scar still visible near his chin. She swept her gaze downwards. His neck was corded, his arms bulging with muscle. She couldn´t see his chest as it was hidden beneath the thick dragon vest but she guessed it was equally impressive. Every time she stood near him her blood boiled. It was no different now. She had dreamt with him. She had imagined his mouth on her body, kissing, sucking, licking... She had pictured his hands, large and calloused, pinching her, touching her, caressing her in the most intimate way.
“The skies are getting dark and…”
Amaia held her breath as Andros stared at her. His nostrils flared and the gold in his eyes became brighter. His lips parted and she had to fight against the urge to lean toward him and kiss him. She swallowed. Andros closed his eyes and Amaia´s gaze dropped. She blushed as she caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants. Her insides tingled.
She kept her gaze down. She didn´t need to see the shake off his head. She recognized that tone in his voice. It was the tone he used with his men when he was disappointed or when he disapproved of a decision. It was worse than being screamed at or punched in the gut.
“Amaia, look at me.”
She shook her head, thankful for the thick hood of her cloak.
“Let´s go. We shan´t reach Avenshire for the coronation if we dwell here. We must—“
“Look at me.”
Her heart fluttered as his gentle fingers grasped her chin and tilted her head back. Amaia closed her eyes. His fingertips brushed her temple as he pulled back her hood. He didn´t stop there. They ran over her hair and down her neck, causing goose bumps to spread over her arms and her lips to part as she fought to breathe.
“Look at me, Amaia.”
She wanted to deny his request, but she couldn’t. Not when he was still touching her. Not when he had moved so close she could feel the warmth and the scent of his flesh. The hand over her chin tightened.
“Ira ai nogard,” he said in heir native language. “Nogardess principeza ono ode migon.”
She opened her eyes and grasped his wrists firmly. He pulled back, clearly taken aback by her reaction. Almost as much as her.
“No. I won’t let you say that. I—“
Andros´ slit like eyes narrowed. She swallowed and he smiled sadly.
“What do you see, Dragonness?”
“You are dragon.”
“Your heart is misplaced, princess.” He released her.
“I am dragon.”
“You are princess,” he said roughly before turning his back to her.
“I am dragon and I am woman and my heart is not misplaced, it is mine to command and it has chosen you. Do you not see--?”
He was upon her in a single stride. His lips hot and punishing as they coaxed her mouth open. She held onto him, reveling in his taste, his strength, his fragrance. He pressed her closer as his tongue entwined with hers and she felt his masculine hardness. Her sex throbbed with need.
“Amaia.” The tone she´d heard earlier was gone, replaced by one full of desperate need. The same she felt. “We can’t do this.” He pulled back and for a brief instant she saw the pain in his dragon eyes. She dropped her gaze. He walked away.
“Come on, princess. I must deliver you to Avenshire.”
Read this week's Briefs!
Don't know what to read? Check out the first 100 words of each brief at our webpage: www.wedbriefsfic.com