Page 23 of Dragon Heir

She gasps, and her back arches, her ass pushing back into her chair and her chest pushing out. Her perky little tits strain at the thin fabric of her top, her nipples erect with desire. My mouth fills with saliva. I want to thrust my hands down the neck of her shirt, squeeze those pert little buds until she moans, until she begs me to suck them and bite them and fuck them—

The door opens. Bradley takes in the scene with one sweep of his amber eyes.

“Don’t throw yourself at me,” I growl at Vynessa, stepping back. “It’s desperate, even for a backwards village girl. You’re going to have to work for your grade, like everyone else.”

I turn to face Bradley, not even glancing Vynessa’s way when she grabs up her things and scurries past us and out the door.

Chapter Ten

Vynessa

A knock rattles my door, but I don’t raise my head. “Go away. Let me die in peace.”

It’s day three since my utter and complete humiliation in the library. How could I have gotten that so wrong? I haven’t left my room except to sneak out in the middle of the night to eat and use the restroom. Thankfully I was ahead on my studies as of three days ago because I’m soon going to be behind.

I don’t even care anymore.

“I’m coming in.”

“I’m naked,” I warn.

“Is that supposed to convince me not to come in?”

“It’s locked, and I’m never leaving this bed again, so you’re out of luck.”

He clearly takes this as a challenge because a second later, I hear scratching at my lock. It takes Pax less than a minute before the knob is turning, and he’s filling my doorway.

He leans into the frame, his ocean eyes considering me. “When’s the last time you showered, Nessie?”

I’m actually not sure. Burrowing down, I sniff my armpit. It’s a bit rank, I have to admit. I slam the covers back up to my chin. “Oh, whatever,” I croak, “You know I naturally smell like roses.”

“Well, your hair doesn’t naturally shampoo itself, and it’s three shades darker.”

“I don’t care. Go away.”

I’m answered with silence.

I stare at the folds in my blankets, pretty sure Pax left, but unable to bear the sight of an empty doorway. Even though I told him to leave, tears prick at my eyes. Everything’s changed, and I hate it.

Then the bed slumps down, and Pax stretches out behind me. He wraps his arms me, warm and strong, and it takes every millimeter of my concentration to not start crying.

“Don’t,” I mumble, even as I cling to him. “I smell bad.”

“You smell like roses.”

I snort. “No, I don’t.”

“You said so yourself.”

“I lied.”

“Well, I didn’t.” His arms wrap entirely around me, and he presses his nose into my hair. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please, Nessie. You’re scaring me.”

I lay my head on his arm. “It’s so stupid, Pax. I’ve been so stupid.”

“What’s going on, baby? You haven’t been yourself since we got here. I’m worried about you.”

I thought he hadn’t been himself, but maybe Pax is right. Maybe it’s me who’s changed. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, my moods swinging high and low every passing second, confusing the hell out of me. The hormones that are, quite frankly, alarming if not terrifying.