...“You are never again to dismiss me like I’m nothing to you. Never again ignore me.”

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, seeing love along with the hurt and fierce anger in Season’s eyes. She was pissed, but not beyond lost to him. “I apologize for that.”

“Apology accepted. I also want more than the D/s of a fawn’s sexual relationship with her master. I love the kink, but why don’t we ever have simple missionary position sex? Why don’t you enter me?”

“You know why.” Must he say it?

“Let’s pretend I don’t so you can enlighten me.”

Quinn let go of Season, and wondered how could he tell her the truth, knowing the pain it would cause?

“You know, I’ve had time to think about it all these weeks apart. I don’t believe it’s that you’re afraid you’ll get me pregnant.” She ran her hand along the inside of her right thigh, saying, “My reproductive inhibitor is still working.”

His eyes followed the path of her fingers and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as she pulled aside the thin strip of cloth hiding her pussy and began stroking her clit. His mouth watered, wanting a taste so bad, he almost shook with need.

“I’m only a fawn, a sex toy you play with, not someone worthy of ‘marrying.’ Your kind doesn’t marry humans and you didn’t want me getting too attached to you. So you backed off. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Season—”

“Save it. Like Nalita said on the message she left you, I know about the big news and I plan to enter the hunt.” She repositioned her panties, grabbed her overcoat from the hook behind the bedroom door, and slid her arms into the coat sleeves. His stomach did a funny lurch as she walked past him, setting the extra key card on the kitchen table.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what, Quinn? Don’t go? Don’t enter the hunt?”

“I won’t be able to protect you. You’ll be fair game for any male—human or dragon—to take you.”

“That’s my problem. Not yours. Unless you agree to the new terms of our deal?” she asked, pausing at the front entrance to his aerie.

“Whether I agree or not, it makes no difference, Season. Our codes of conduct are different from human laws and traditions. The ‘missionary position,’ as you called it, must be performed the first time during the solstice hunt, and once taken by a hunter, the female is life-mated to him. I have enemies, men like Valentine, who’d love nothing more than to hurt me any way he can.”

“Then I guess I won’t be the only one in this room entering the hunt.”

“You’re dictating terms to me? In case you forgot, I’m your master.” Did she think to challenge his authority? Obviously Season had learned nothing from their training.

“Then act like it!”

Fed up with her bossy behavior and wanting her so bad his teeth ached, he rushed her, giving her no time and no warning. He curled his hand around her neck, pulling her close and slid his mouth over hers. His tongue slipped between her lips and teased her into a fevered duel.

She tasted of oranges and honey, of liquid heat and desire. Quinn released his hold and stepped back. Her eyes were dazed. She lifted a hand to her mouth and stood silent. Season had the choice to leave or stay. He had to give her that much.

Quinn watched as she slowly removed the coat and dropped to her knees in front of him. His sweet little fawn had expertly maneuvered him, topping from the bottom. He’d never had a choice, not now, and not from the moment he’d spied her at Nalita’s dungeon, acting as one of Nalita’s hostesses all those months ago, a vanilla flower amid a sea of D/s regulars.