Oh God, she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to let her own hand fall away and let him do as he willed with her—to her—but he refused. With every gasping breath, he forced her to touch herself.
Here. Again. Again!
“Yes,” he said.
The tide took her.
It washed over her in a roar of sensation.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but feel and fly. Such pleasure!
He held her throughout. He kept her upright while her body pulsed and writhed. And when she was merely floating, he picked up her up and carried her to her bed.
“There,” he said as he set her down on the pillow. “The glow should last a while because it’s your first time. Enjoy it.”
He straightened and she languidly grabbed his arm. “You’re leaving?”
“I am,” he said as he stepped back and gave her a little bow.
“But—” She’d thought… Well, she didn’t know what she’d thought, but it wasn’t this.
“You can now love yourself, Emma. Men find this out young. They discover ways to pleasure themselves. No need for marriage or anything but one’s own hand.”
She looked at her hand as if she’d never seen it before. Damnation, her mind was scattered.
“Now you can love yourself, Emma, and cease looking to me for it.”
“But that’s not what I want from you,” she said as she levered up on her elbows. He was nearly at the door. “I mean, this is not love.”
“Yes, it is,” he countered. “And it’s all I have to give.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Yihui couldn’t sleep.This was the longest she’d been inactive in her entire life. Her fever was gone, her bones were knitting, and her mind was filled with Max, Max, Max. How many times had he saved her? Once when she was presented to his king, again when he saved her from Lao Gu, and now again against his own ruler. How had she not realized he was a Dragon King?
How was this possible? How could a foreign man possess the strength of a dragon? But that was ignorance. Dragon power was too strong to be contained in China alone. Only vanity made her think such a thing.
And now she knew that Max was a dragon, and she was left in awe. Better yet, she would marry him. The royal had declared it, and Max had bowed his head in agreement. Such was the way of heaven, she supposed, to have her own father sell her to a foreign king, only for her to find a man who…
Who must love her. That was the only explanation! She had not believed in love at first sight or that beauty could turn a man’s heart, but she had no other explanation for the way he treated her. Kindness, respect, honor. These were the actions of a man in love.
She had to sit with the thought for many long minutes. She knew people who loved. Couples who adored one another throughout the years. Those who still gazed warmly at each other even in their old age. And of course, there were fables of great souls who loved. Gods and goddesses, powerful men andthe women they wanted. It wasn’t always about the woman’s beauty. Sometimes she possessed extraordinary skill.
Yihui knew her strengths. She was not a great beauty in China, but perhaps she was enough here in England. She also knew she survived when others failed, plus she understood great medicines from China. She would be an asset to any man. Why couldn’t an English dragon see her worth? And why wouldn’t he fall in love with her?
The excitement of this thought shivered through her. It was possible! And if it were true, then she vowed here and now that she would honor him as truly as any wife could. She thought about their children, wondering how dragon strength would filter into a half-Chinese child. She’d been taught that the English were too pale, too shallow to sustain elemental power, but obviously, that was wrong. Which meant her children would have the power of a dragon and the cunning of a rat, which was her zodiac sign.
What a joy that combination would be. So she spun dreams around a foreign man who would take her as his own. She was deep in a dream of presenting him with their son when a soft knock interrupted her fantasy.
“Come in,” she said, expecting it was the maid here to take away her evening tray.
The door opened, and it was no maid. It was Max, his shoulders broad enough to block the light. Yihui immediately straightened, being sure to keep her head bowed respectfully even as she tried to peer surreptitiously up at him.
“My lord, you are welcome.”
He smiled and pointed at the book on her lap. It was a child’s primer on English that Emmaline had given her. “Are you learning to read?”
“An educated woman must read and write.” It would be a necessity for her as his wife.
