Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Please,” I breathe, arching up to meet him and to increase the friction. “Please, please. Oh, Murr. Please.”
His thrusts grow deeper, picking up in intensity, and he grips the back of my neck as he pounds into me, as if he’s pinning me in place. I love that possessive hold, and when another, smaller orgasm ripples through me, I’m not surprised in the slightest. I want to live in this moment, bathe in it, revel in the feel of his powerful body claiming mine.
When I start to come, Murr immediately pulls out. I make a choked sound of protest, but then his mouth is on my throat, clamping down on the bite mark. Heat floods my thighs, and he’s coming on the blanket, not inside me. Just as we’d agreed. He drags his teeth over my throat, holding me there, but not biting through the skin, and I clutch him against me, wrapping myself around him and reveling in this moment.
Our breathing mingles, my deep gulps of air in harmony with his rasps. We smell like sweat and cinnamon and the musty, dusty bank.
And I can’t stop smiling. I laugh to myself, holding my lover tight. “My husband. My Murr.”
“Hus-band?” Murr’s head lifts and he gazes down at me with a hint of confusion. “Explain.”
A horrible feeling uncurls in my belly.
Please tell me this wasn’t all a big misunderstanding…
CHAPTER 74
DAKOTA
There’s dread in my gut like a heavy brick. What does he not understand? He’s been calling me wife, asked me to be his…how can he not understand? What if he didn’t want to be with me at all and I’ve grossly misunderstood…everything?
I will pull this blanket over my head and just die.
Trying not to panic, I give his shoulder a pat. “Explain what part? You’re my husband. I’m your wife.”
His mouth flattens as he regards me. “Murr not wife? Wife not…” He lifts both index fingers and then places them side by side. “Together? Family?”
I burst out laughing in sheer relief.
At his wounded look, I cup his cheek. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because…well, I thought you changed your mind. Wife is me. I’m the wife, the female partner. Husband is the term for the male partner. They’re gendered, which really doesn’t matter. You can be my wife if you want, as long as we both know what it means.”
He digests this, then nods. “One…thing for ‘wife,’ drakoni.”
“Your people only have one word for it?” I grimace, because we’re diving into more about how tricky our language can be for him. “We have lots of words. Married couple, partners, mates, spouse, other half…”
“What word?” he asks, his expression one of patience.
An excellent question. I want to use something that can be interchangeable, to honor the way his people think about things. If they don’t have specific words for which partner is which, we shouldn’t either. “Well, ‘spouse’ is more clinical, I think. ‘Partner’ is nice but makes me think of cowboys. ‘Mate’ is a little sexier, but it’s also used for other things.”
“Mate?” he asks. “Explain all.”
“Well…your shoe can have a mate, for example. It means one it’s meant to be paired up with. And then there’s ‘mate’ as a verb, which means…what we just did. Have sex. Mates mate.” I don’t want to go into the British or Aussie slang of calling a buddy a ‘mate’ because it might just fry his brain to realize there are more versions of English than just the one I’m teaching him.
“Mate,” Murr repeats. “I like. Go together perfectly. Murr, Dakota.” He reaches out and brushes a knuckle over the tip of my breast. “Dakota mate.”
My mouth goes dry, and it’s evident he’s not tired in the slightest. “Mate it is.”
He pulls me in close, tucking me against him and lightly running his fingertips along my side. “Dakota happy?”
“Did I enjoy myself? Yes. Yes, I did.” I slide my hands over his gloriously warm body, touching him everywhere I can. “Of course I did.”
“Murr…touch wrong? Dakota bossy…then Murr touch right?” He eyes me with a sly expression.
I sputter. “I wasn’t correcting you. You were doing just fine. It was just…”
“Just?” he nudges.
Did I hurt his feelings? That’s the last thing I want. I kiss him, wanting to reassure him. “I just didn’t want you to stay down there forever because I was overthinking things. I figured I wasn’t going to come if I didn’t say something. I didn’t want you to waste your time. I’m sorry if it came across poorly.”
His eyes flicker with something unreadable. “Waste time?” He moves his hand between my thighs, where I’m still wet and my thighs are sticky with his release. “Here is waste time?”
“No, no. I just didn’t want you to take too long.”
“Explain.”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
He blinks, clearly not following.”…explain. Why not fair?”