Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
“My wren,” he breathed as he shifted one of her legs forward. “I want to experience everything with you.”
“I am in your hands.”
His fingers slipped through the sticky slick of her opening, using their joined completion as lube. Then he dragged it back and circled invitingly at the pucker of her ass. She relaxed against the feeling, putting all the control in his clever hands as he slid one finger inside.
He worked in and out, then inserted a second finger. He stretched her open with such expert precision, reading her mind by the tension of her body and going deeper at the moments when she released.
“That’s it. Good,” he praised. “I think you’re ready. Do you still want…”
“I want.”
Graves reached backward, grabbing a bottle out of the side table. He put lube in his palm and took his cock in his hand. “We’ll take it slow,” he promised as he lifted her leg.
She tensed as he aligned their bodies and then immediately relaxed into him. The head of his cock slid forward into her. He was so big. So big. So wide and firm and warm.
“Breathe, Wren,” he grunted, rubbing her back. “Breathe. We’re almost there.”
She released her breath again as he drew her against him, fluttering kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. His hands trembled as he gently guided himself inside, slow and steady and deliriously tight. Then he fitted them together with a satisfied groan.
“Graves,” she gasped. Her gaze went over her shoulder as she looked at his satisfied face.
“Wren,” he said before giving her one long kiss. “You have no clue how good this feels.” He pulled out and back in. “How does it feel for you?”
“Full,” she said. Then his hand slipped over her hip and the heel of his palm settled over her clit. “Oh shit.”
She could practically feel him grin into her hair. “I’m going to move now, baby.”
That nickname would be the death of her. She flexed around him, and he groaned. She could only manage one word, “Please.”
His movements were slow and constrained. She clutched at the comforter, at him, at anything, as the pressure built within herself and she gave herself over to him. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted him forever. And she wanted him to see himself how she saw him.
Not the monster but the man.
Not the villain but the hero.
And all the way through, he was hers.
If she took down her absorption now, she knew exactly what he’d see. That she loved him. That she loved him more than words. More than anything else in the whole world.
And she had just enough power left to do it.
Her absorption dropped.
And for a staggering second, Graves froze. His eyes wide, not unseeing, but completely sweeping through her mind. And she laid herself bare. Showed him the world as it was with him in it. The world she wanted from him. And the world as it was in this moment, surrounded with love.
Their gazes locked, and he pushed, not away from her mind, but into it. And there he planted a seed. A vision of them together. The one that sustained him in his dark days. Of them together in the library, seated on the couch, reading books. Anne Boleyn purring tempestuously nearby. The winter chill creeping in just as he liked it. The skylight overhead showing a full moon. Their world. Their happy little slice of heaven. Whether or not either of them deserved to have it. It was what they fought tooth and nail for. Peace.
And then they both shattered into a million little pieces. Each feeling is so much more with their minds connected as it always should have been.
“Your mind,” she whispered, “is a beautiful place.”
“All the beautiful parts of me come from you.”
“And mine are because we’re together,” she told him.
“I accept this,” he said, pulling their bodies together once more.
“Can we stay in bed forever?” she asked as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Can we bathe in euphoria?”
“If only,” he said. “I already called a meeting.”
She laughed, soft and breathy. “Of course you did.”
“The stone is waiting,” he said.
“And we’ll be ready,” she promised.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Niamh turned Kierse’s wrists over and back again. “They look worlds better.”
“They still hurt.”
“They probably will for a while. Graves showed me the cuffs this morning.” She shook her head. “They’re a real piece of work. If Graves is right about it being in Formorian, then my guess is that they were used to disable a god.”
Kierse shuddered. “Lovely.”
“You’re probably lucky they were too big for you. Or else you wouldn’t have been able to get them off.”
“Feeling super lucky today,” she deadpanned.
“You should. If they’d been on much longer, you would have died. Fae can’t stand up to iron to begin with, but this was enchanted with dark magic.” Niamh shuddered. “If it had eaten all your magic, there would have been nothing any of us could have done.”