TheWord.Witch
TheWord.Witch's Book(1)
In the Dragon's Shadow
Fantasy “Ssh,” he whispered slowly, voice caressing my neck and shoulders. My body pressed tightly up against his, our shared heat palpable with both of us in such states of undress. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, and my pulse raced.
Lumbering footsteps clanked down the hallway, announcing at least two guards. They mumbled among themselves, but too quietly for me to make out what they were talking about. Something about the dragon.
We waited a long while for their footsteps to retreat. When they did, Zariah continued to hold me to him.
“Were you looking for me? That is brave. No one has tried to do that before.” he said, sounding pleased about the prospect. The hand on my waist slowly drifted across my belly, tracing my hip through the thin shift. His head descended to nuzzle my neck and shoulder. It tickled, but I’d be damned if I would move now.
“No, but it’s good to see you again,” I answered.
His brow furrowed at that, confused. But then a soft touch, wet and heated, replaced the sensation of his skin on mine.
His lips.
I’m sure I stopped breathing as his lips dragged down my shoulder, then back up and lingering at the side of my neck.
His hand at my hip ghosted lower, and lower, and I found myself not caring as his tongue tasted my skin, languidly leaving a glistening trail on the back of my neck. This wasn’t the same as what the men in the mud quarter tried to do. They were fast and rough—this was slow and gentle.
And I liked it.
I sucked in a breath as the hand questing lower found the edge of my shift and lifted, his fingers skimming the hot, naked flesh of my thighs. My hips. My stomach.
He paused and circled my belly button, then spread his fingers wide as if to touch as much of me as he could.
Higher...
–---------–-
Azalea has finally decided to leave her poverty struck home and become a wife to someone at the noble quarter, the Seat in order to improve her and her mother's sake but another man has eyes on her as well as the mighty DRAGON. 
