Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
His teeth sank into my neck from behind as he hooked his fingers around me, almost pulling me off the floor as if he wanted to feel every wave, every throb, every quiver, quake, and shudder.
I cried out as it kept going, bands after bands of pure, piercing pleasure, soaking into his hand.
He captured all of it, not letting me go.
And when it was finally over, he released me slowly, softly, far more gently than I thought he was capable of. Removing his hand, my dress tumbled down, and he pressed his slightly damp palm against my lower belly, pulling me back so I could feel every ridge, every throbbing inch of him.
I waited for his command to return the favour.
I burned to return the favour, but the same hand that’d shattered me slowly skated up my body, over my breasts, and settled around my neck.
He squeezed just a little, his voice torn and tattered. “Have you paid attention how to kill or...” He pressed his forehead to my shoulder for a moment, riding out whatever agony or lust still haunted him. “Do I need to teach you again?”
He expected me to talk after this?
To pretend like he hadn’t just had sex with me without taking my clothes off?
He was lucky I was still conscious. Lucky that the intensity of what he made me feel was stronger than the headache pounding at my skull.
“Well?” His fingers loosened a little, his thumb caressing me gently.
He sent yet more heat skittering through my blood.
Another drop and I’d spontaneously combust or come again...both were as likely as the other at this point.
Licking my lips, I begged my body to behave as I shoved my free hand behind me, burrowing it between our tightly pressed bodies.
He went rigid. “Wait...what are you—ghh.”
He jackknifed into me as I pressed my palm against his throbbing length.
My heart almost flew out of my chest as my vision danced with rainbows.
I’d never touched a man like this before.
Never known how hard he’d be or how ridiculously hot.
The position was awkward, my technique inexperienced, but I just copied what he’d given me. I learned his lesson because I was a diligent little student and squeezed him firmly, possessively, no hesitation or second guessing.
I delivered the sort of mind-stealing pressure I’d wanted.
I must’ve gotten it right because he almost dropped to the ground.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck me, that feels—”
His legs buckled as I fisted him the best I could.
He marched me forward until I slammed against the wall. He didn’t bother spinning me around. Didn’t stop me as his hips drove into my hand. The dagger clattered to the floor as his hand spasmed around mine, letting me go to wrap both arms around me, burrowing his forehead into my shoulder.
I had no control as he thrust against my palm.
No way to stop him as he used me for a release.
I relished in the loss of his control as he broke.
I flushed with power and pride and a dangerous amount of desperation.
And when he came, he roared as loud as Whisper.
He shuddered and jerked. His entire body wracking with convulsions as if he didn’t just come but was reborn.
Neither of us said a word as we stayed panting and plastered together against the wall.
I lost track of time as we fought our own agonies, suffering the aftershocks of pleasure.
Finally, sharpness turned to heaviness and the aftermath of our storm settled over us.
With a guttural groan, he pushed away, unwinding his arms from around me and raking both hands through his glossy black hair.
My knees pretended they were water, threatening to fold me to the floor as I turned to face him.
I choked on a breath as I met his stare.
All the air I couldn’t breathe before slammed into my lungs, making my vision grey, and the room spin. I needed to sit down. To put my head between my legs.
Never.
No one had ever made me feel the way he did.
I didn’t think it was even possible for someone to have such power over someone else’s nervous system. To conjure such pleasure. To annihilate my entire existence.
I froze as my mind latched onto that idea.
Wait.
Was that how I could help his pain and his blood helped mine?
Was it true that everyone had their perfect puzzle piece and once you found each other you became whole? Were we that fated that his body could cure mine and vice versa?
His throat worked as he swallowed hard. Wiping a hand over his mouth, he shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what we’d done.
With a soft growl, Whisper unwound from his spot and padded toward his master. Nudging Lucien gently, he sensed things I couldn’t see.
Lucien rested his hand on the giant cat, his shoulders sagging.
Were his pain levels unbearable again?
Was I wrong?
Had I made him worse instead of better?