Shades Of Dragon (A BBW Dragon-Shifter Paranormal Romance) by Catherine Vale Page B

that you felt when he pressed your body against his back in the cellar? A voice suddenly argued in her head. Just something in his pocket?
          Her entire face flushed as she remembered the feel of his manhood pressing against her bottom through her dress, and she splashed the water against her face to try and rid herself of the memory. The cool water felt refreshing against her face, and she scooped up another to gulp it down greedily, icy wetness sliding down her parched, aching throat and easing some of the pain inside her. Oh god, she didn’t realize how much she’d needed this until she was down on her knees beside the stream. And now that she was drinking, she didn’t know if she was ever going to stop.
          “Careful now,” Tegan’s voice said from behind her. “If you drink too much you might end up getting sick.”
          Ciara gulped down one last handful of water, and then rose up onto her knees again. She definitely didn’t need to add throwing up to her list of embarrassing things to do in front of Tegan. “You’re right,” she said as he knelt down in front of her. “I guess I just got carried away.”
          “I don’t blame you,” he said, smiling. “You seem pretty thirsty.” He reached for her shoulder, and then an uncertainty filled his eyes and he stopped, his hand hovering just above her flesh. “Ciara… do you mind if I, umm, pull this down?”
          “Huh?” Ciara looked over and realized that he was asking her to basically pull down the top of her dress. Color bloomed on her cheeks as well as his. “Umm, yes, of course.” She grabbed what was left of the hem and tugged the shoulders of her dress down, gathering the fabric at her chest to cover her breasts as best as she could while he worked.
          She didn’t miss the flare of heat from his eyes as his gaze brushed over the swell of her bosom, though, or the way his fingers lingered as they brushed against her skin. The pads of his fingers were warm and rough, and they sent tingles through her. Or at least, that’s how they felt before they brushed her wounds. Then she hissed, pain zinging through her.
          “Ouch,” he murmured in agreement, nodding his head. He laid out the tools he’d gathered up from the forest beside him, and Ciara watched as he set to work, grinding up a bunch of leaves – herbs for healing, she guessed – in a shell using a stone as a pestle to make a kind of poultice. When he was done, he took a kind of soft bark that resembled cloth and dipped it in the stream, then cleaned the blood off her wounds, trying to be as gentle as he could. Ciara bit down on her lip to keep from crying out in pain – she wished that she was stronger than this, but the truth was, she’d never been seriously wounded in her life and the pain from the dragon’s claw marks was excruciating. She didn’t know how warriors went into battle dealing with injuries like this. She could barely stand having just a single one!
          “You’re doing great,” he murmured, clearly sensing her discomfort though she said nothing aloud. “We’re almost done here.” He scooped up the paste in his hand and began applying it liberally to her shoulder. Ciara groaned in relief as the cooling paste immediately began to go to work on the injury, her muscles sagging as the pain began to leave her body.
          “This is amazing,” she said, her eyes half closing as a pleasant warmth seeped into the area following the initial coolness. “Where did you learn to do this?”
          Tegan shrugged. “Trial and error,” he said to her. “I had to treat enough of my own injuries during the time that I lived here that I quickly learned which plants in which combinations helped, and which ones didn’t.”
          Ciara winced the implication of his words. “Did… did you ever poison yourself?”
          He nodded. “A couple of times.” He grabbed another piece of bark