Torn: A Dragon Shifter BBW Menage Serial (Seeking Her Mates Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Carina Wilder
Conor, standing. He walked over to her and, without any hesitation, put a hand under her chin, raising her face so that her eyes caught his own. She couldn’t help but stare; their colouring was so odd, so indefinable, and the variations seemed to pull her in so that she was momentarily swept up within their depths.
She wondered for a moment if he’d noticed how strange her own eyes were, with their shades of green, yellow and even some red. She’d once considered buying tinted contact lenses to conceal them, but had decided that it was best simply to avoid eye contact with anyone.
But avoiding any sort of contact with this man seemed like a mistake, and in fact she would have liked a good deal more of it. His body, its tall, broad form, seemed to beg to be touched. The chest before her strained against the sweater which covered it and Lily could see the outline of defined muscles under the tight sleeves. She wanted nothing more than to run a finger over the lines of his body, to explore his shape…
But even so she pulled away, turning towards the kitchen, his fingers slipping away as he released her jaw from his gentle touch.
“Can I fix you a cup of tea?” she asked, her back to him.
“No. I should go,” replied the voice behind her, which seemed to have gone cold all of a sudden. “Thank you for the notes. I’ll see you at the exam.”
Yes, Conor’s lovely deep voice had lost its warmth, as though her implicit rejection had caused him to suffer a blow. Lily turned to respond, only to see his back as he made his way to the front door.
She wanted to follow, to put a hand on his arm and stop him, to say, “Conor, I’m not what you think I am. It’s complicated. Please, don’t go. I’ll tell you everything.”
But she couldn’t.
----
4
P erhaps , Conor mulled, he’d been wrong about her, or maybe his dubious gifts had failed him. Lilliana didn’t seem to gravitate towards him in the same way that he did towards her, to put it mildly; at her flat she’d shown a sort of animosity and chilliness that didn’t denote a desire for intimacy.
And yet he could smell desire on her, and he’d seen it in his mind’s eye: the two of them together, somehow, somewhere far away.
When he’d touched her, her scent had altered as though to alert him of her wish for more. But then again, maybe he’d imagined all of it. His gifts for sight seemed to have twisted themselves into convincing him that she was meant for him and yet he still had no idea who or what she was: only that with each moment that he spent near her, his desire to understand their connection grew.
As he walked away from her flat, he tried to force images into his mind like those he’d seen at first; those sketched pictures of Lilliana making her way through her life in London. Who was this woman, really? There was more to her than he could uncover, and yet at first this had all seemed like an open and shut case: he wanted her. She, by all appearances, was single. She’d even come close to admitting that he was somewhat attractive.
But something was creating a block; a wall between them which he was unable to penetrate. Perhaps it was she herself who had erected it, as though creating a strong barrier around herself in order to keep the threat of affection at bay.
And he felt as though he would soon lose her if he didn’t find a way to keep her with him in this place. An image came to him of her at last, a suitcase in hand, nodding a farewell to her London flat.
----
L ily’s mind continually returned to Conor, though she tried her best to cram for the exam over the next day or so. But there he was, like a recurring dream: his face, his voice, his attractive strangeness. She told herself that any apparent allure was merely in her imagination—he seemed odd and fascinating only because he was from another place and time. Soon she would be with the sort of people and shifters with whom she was familiar, and realize that his exoticism
She wondered for a moment if he’d noticed how strange her own eyes were, with their shades of green, yellow and even some red. She’d once considered buying tinted contact lenses to conceal them, but had decided that it was best simply to avoid eye contact with anyone.
But avoiding any sort of contact with this man seemed like a mistake, and in fact she would have liked a good deal more of it. His body, its tall, broad form, seemed to beg to be touched. The chest before her strained against the sweater which covered it and Lily could see the outline of defined muscles under the tight sleeves. She wanted nothing more than to run a finger over the lines of his body, to explore his shape…
But even so she pulled away, turning towards the kitchen, his fingers slipping away as he released her jaw from his gentle touch.
“Can I fix you a cup of tea?” she asked, her back to him.
“No. I should go,” replied the voice behind her, which seemed to have gone cold all of a sudden. “Thank you for the notes. I’ll see you at the exam.”
Yes, Conor’s lovely deep voice had lost its warmth, as though her implicit rejection had caused him to suffer a blow. Lily turned to respond, only to see his back as he made his way to the front door.
She wanted to follow, to put a hand on his arm and stop him, to say, “Conor, I’m not what you think I am. It’s complicated. Please, don’t go. I’ll tell you everything.”
But she couldn’t.
----
4
P erhaps , Conor mulled, he’d been wrong about her, or maybe his dubious gifts had failed him. Lilliana didn’t seem to gravitate towards him in the same way that he did towards her, to put it mildly; at her flat she’d shown a sort of animosity and chilliness that didn’t denote a desire for intimacy.
And yet he could smell desire on her, and he’d seen it in his mind’s eye: the two of them together, somehow, somewhere far away.
When he’d touched her, her scent had altered as though to alert him of her wish for more. But then again, maybe he’d imagined all of it. His gifts for sight seemed to have twisted themselves into convincing him that she was meant for him and yet he still had no idea who or what she was: only that with each moment that he spent near her, his desire to understand their connection grew.
As he walked away from her flat, he tried to force images into his mind like those he’d seen at first; those sketched pictures of Lilliana making her way through her life in London. Who was this woman, really? There was more to her than he could uncover, and yet at first this had all seemed like an open and shut case: he wanted her. She, by all appearances, was single. She’d even come close to admitting that he was somewhat attractive.
But something was creating a block; a wall between them which he was unable to penetrate. Perhaps it was she herself who had erected it, as though creating a strong barrier around herself in order to keep the threat of affection at bay.
And he felt as though he would soon lose her if he didn’t find a way to keep her with him in this place. An image came to him of her at last, a suitcase in hand, nodding a farewell to her London flat.
----
L ily’s mind continually returned to Conor, though she tried her best to cram for the exam over the next day or so. But there he was, like a recurring dream: his face, his voice, his attractive strangeness. She told herself that any apparent allure was merely in her imagination—he seemed odd and fascinating only because he was from another place and time. Soon she would be with the sort of people and shifters with whom she was familiar, and realize that his exoticism
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