Sharing warmth.
Holding each other.
Cuddling.
None of which I am familiar with but dying to try.
Don't get me wrong, I am no blushing virgin, I am well over three hundred years old after all, but sex does not feel quite…rightwhen shared with someone other than your mate. It achieves its purpose, grants relief but that's just about it. There is no desire for closeness, no need to share a bed or sleep together. A simple exchange to meet your goal and it's over.
I remember asking my father if that was normal, to have sex, attain release, and feel nothing for the female leading up to or immediately following the act itself and only being focused on yourself during. He explained that it was perfectly normal for most shifters to feel that way, that until we find our mate the act of sex is nothing more than a meaningless basic urge, almost like a chore to be performed.
“No different from taking a shit in the woods when you can't find a toilet.”
That's how he described it and I found that to be very true. Thankfully my father did not leave it at that and explained that when we find our mate everything is better, everything is right. We find so much joy in even the tiniest of things, see everything through much clearer eyes.
Then he laughed and said once he found my mother he started doing things he never imagined he'd do, let alone enjoy, which is when my father, Bozidar the Great, shared with me that he loved to cuddle.
I didn't find it strange, not that he liked to cuddle,—though his use of the word was odd at the time—because our family had always been incredibly affectionate. Like I said, our mother still kissed us on the mouth right up until hours before she passed on to The After. Even my brothers and I do not hesitate to embrace if we feel it's needed or wanted, we just tease each other relentlessly to make up for it.
So knowing my mate, my beloved Josephine, is lying in my bed upstairs, most likely asleep since it's now almost quarter til four in the morning, has my desire to mate taking a backseat to the desire to cuddle, to hold her while we sleep.
And I'll most likely attempt to get the mating ritual started back up in the morning because I might die if I don't.
I stand from the couch and stretch, then check all of the windows and doors, make sure our secluded escape is secure, then clean up the remnants of the broken dish before turning out the lights and taking the stairs.
When I enter our room, the first thing I notice is Posey's scent. That decadent combination of sweet warmth and soothing floral fills the whole room and even spills out into the hall.
I can also appreciate that she drew the heavy curtains that block out all light. As dragon shifters we are very accustomed to sleeping in pitch black since it is preferred by our other half, and I'm relieved to see Posey also enjoys the total darkness.
There is, however, a small light on next to her side of the bed and I have to smile when I take in my mate.
Posey is on her right side facing the window, curled into a tiny little ball, blankets pulled so high and tight around her that all I can see is the mess of curls on her head.
I close the door and lock it because I have every right to be a little paranoid, then walk over to turn out her lamp but stop short when I have to smother down a laugh.
Apparently my mate fell asleep while reading because there is a book on her face. The book, 1984, is open and still gripped in her slender fingers but it is covering her face completely.
Carefully, I extract the book and feel my heartbeat just a little faster when I behold the beautiful serene look on her face. I press a kiss to her forehead, smile when she sighs contentedly then head to the adjoining bathroom to take a piss and brush my teeth before I join her.
Gods, her scent is everywhere and I fucking love it. I'm almost disappointed that it will change when I mark her, though I don't know how much and I'm sure there will be great satisfaction in how our scents will mingle once I do. I'm sure her sweet with my spice will make for an intoxicating fragrance and I'll be proud as hell to wear the same scent. Not to mention the constant state of arousal I'll most likely feel whenever I smell myself on her, inside her, embedded in my beloved Josephine.
It most definitely explains why newly mated couples generally go into hiding for a few days after they complete the mating ritual—have to get as much of that need worked out as possible before returning to the general population.
I climb into our bed, slip under the covers carefully so I don't wake my mate then I just watch her. Watch her even breathing, the way her body rises and falls, the mass of chestnut curls I had never seen down before today and falling around her shoulders. Goddamn, she is just so beautiful.
With a heavy sigh I roll to my back, stare up at the ceiling and try to picture what our life will be like. If I'll be able to prevent Cyril from ruining everything I'm trying to build, if Posey will understand and support me during this new campaign. I wonder if she'll resist moving into the mansion, require we have our own space, if she'll want her father to come live with us. Then I smile because I don't have to wonder about that, my mate will all but demand it.
Will she want a large mating ceremony? Something more like a traditional human wedding?
Will Posey want to try for young immediately or wait a few years before starting our family? I imagine that has to be planned out a little more since human females are fertile more frequently than dragons. Female dragons go into something like heat for five years straight but only once every hundred or so years. That is why there is but a year between my brothers and I, why there was the same between our sisters and just under one hundred years between the seven of us.
We will make beautiful young, my mate and I. They will be brave and strong, intelligent and most likely have their mother’s smart mouth. Dragovihk genes are strong but I hope our young favor their mother. Curly hair, piercing emerald eyes, freckles of gold adorning their cheeks. And if they do favor Posey, we will always know when they are caught out because they will blush the deepest crimson as well.
My brothers would rib me for thinking like this, daydreaming like a young female about my future but I cannot help it nor am I ashamed of it. The feeling of being complete, of having everything I've longed for in a mate has made me soft to things but I guess that's why we are imbalanced until we find our perfect match.
Posey stirs next to me so I shift my gaze only to be immediately attacked.
My beloved was apparently just waiting for me to get into bed because she rolled toward me, wrapped herself around me tightly, head on my chest, arm over my stomach, legs intertwined with mine and her adorable little feet rubbing against my own.
