Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
More tears spill out. I can’t tell him. It’s not the same as confessing to Mereden and Lark, who already knew that I’d pointed us at two dead bodies back when we were in a Five together. Those were friends. This is Raptor. This is the Taurian I want to touch me, desperately. This is someone I want to look at me with love and affection, and I just know that will change the moment he learns the truth of who I am.
He’ll look at me with wariness. Like he doesn’t know who or what I am.
And it will destroy me inside.
I just cry harder.
“Shh, please, Gwenna.” He lifts off me in the bed, then turns me over with gentle hands. When I gaze up at him, my eyes swimming with tears, he leans in and ever so carefully presses his muzzle to my lips. It’s a kiss. A strange one, but the meaning is all the same. “I hate it when you cry, little bantam. Please don’t. If you’re in some sort of danger, I want to help.”
I reach up and caress his face, my fingers stroking down his long, beautiful nose. “No one can help me.”
“What will it take for you to trust me?” He cups my cheek, nuzzling at my neck again.
My eyes start to fill with tears once more, and I shake my head. I press a kiss of my own on his nose, cupping his face in my hands as I do. “Maybe just don’t torture me anymore? If I could tell you, I would.”
“Torture you?” He nips at my ear, sending shivers up my spine. “Woman, do you think you’re the only one suffering? My knot is as hard as iron right now.”
I manage a teary giggle. “And your cock is probably just as hard. If only we knew of some way to soften them.”
“Aye, they need a good working over.”
“Well, I’m happy to help.” I stroke my fingers over his face, tracing little tickling circles on his skin. “But only if you want me.”
He goes still over me. “Are you saying you’d take my knot?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Raptor’s nose brushes over my sleeve, and I dimly realize that I’m still dressed from the waist up. “Because…a knot isn’t…it’s not something every Taurian has all the time. Most Taurians only get their knot when the Conquest Moon is upon us. Every five years, Old Garesh rises again and makes his sons fertile. They rut until their knot is spent.”
“But…you’re different?”
“Aye. Some Taurians are born with the god’s hand upon them. It means we have a knot always. It means we’re always fertile. We don’t go into a crazed rut like most do during the Conquest Moon. We’re always in rut. Always ready. Always…hungry.” He runs his mouth along the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “Some would say we’re cursed. Some would say we’re blessed.”
“Definitely blessed,” I blurt out.
He lifts his head and stares down at me in surprise. “You think so?”
“I mean, from what I’ve seen, it’s not something to be ashamed of. You’re gorgeous. It’s just another part of you.” I give him a small smile to make him comfortable. I know all about feeling like you’re not enough. All the time I spent as an invisible servant has made me feel as if I’m not worthwhile. That I’m not worthy enough to be an artificer.
Raptor presses a kiss to the side of my neck. He groans against my skin, his breath warm and delightful along my collar. “I’ve struggled with control, especially around you. I dream of knotting you. Sinking deep into your pretty cunt and locking your body to mine. Filling you up and then just spilling my seed in you, endlessly.”
Oh. He dreams of knotting me? I love that. I love that he always makes me feel seen even when I feel invisible. “Is that what your knot is for? Filling your partner?”
Tension returns to his body, and I can feel him stiffening against me. “Some women don’t like it. Most of the sex workers I’ve hired won’t touch my knot. They’re worried it’s too much, that I’ll hurt them. Worse, they don’t want to be tied to me. Not like that. A Taurian who knots his mate has to hold them close until the knot goes down.”
“How long does that take?”
“Sometimes a half hour. Sometimes less. Sometimes more.”
And no one wants to cuddle with him, and it’s clear from the bleak look on his face that he wants it desperately. But sex workers aren’t paid to cuddle. I can see how they’d find it uncomfortable. Fucking a stranger is one thing. Being pinned to a stranger for a half hour is another.
I understand it…and yet I’m angry at them. I’m furious at these strangers for not giving him what he needs. It’s my impression that a sex worker will do just about anything if they’re asked—and paid—properly. But maybe he can’t ask. Maybe he’s got a hang-up about his knot and doesn’t want attention brought to the fact that he’s different. “I’ll let you knot me…if you want to.”