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)
I didn’t care what he’d do to me afterward or how he’d read the scenario of us in bed together but...I reached up with shaking arms. My fingers hovered above his back, hesitant and wary but he jerked again, and my heart made the decision for me.
I let my hands fall.
His skin was fever-hot beneath his shirt, heat billowing off him like waves from a furnace. My palms flattened on his shoulder blades, trembling as I slid them lower, feeling the tremor of muscles knotted tight with pain.
He stiffened; a strangled sound echoed in his chest.
Skimming my fingers up his spine again, I cupped his nape.
He convulsed.
His thick, damp hair rested over my knuckles as I whispered, “It’s okay.”
Lowering my hands again, I followed the contours and tightness of his back. My thumbs traced slow circles along his spine, kneading out the knots I found.
He shuddered and collapsed completely on top of me, his legs settling between my spread ones, his chest to my chest, and that awful hard disc like a large icy medallion against my breast.
“You’re alright,” I whispered, not sure I was doing the right thing but unable to stop.
He shuddered again, but the violent jerks from before began to ebb. His breath slipped into rhythm instead of chaos, hot and heavy against my collarbone. His furnace heat slowly faded as if being this close to me truly did help calm him down.
I lost track of how long we lay like that.
I didn’t stop to think how it would look to others or what it would mean when we broke apart.
I just kept stroking him.
Whisper yawned and lay down beside the bed, his glowing eyes never looking away.
No matter my friendship with the huge cat, I had no doubt he’d bite my hands off if I injured his master.
Lucien shifted a little, pressing all of himself against all of me.
I stiffened as I became highly aware of all the places where we were joined.
A low, rough sound left him, heavy with relief. His arms unbanded around me, letting my back rest far more comfortably on the bed. One of his hands slid up my side, his fingers splaying over my ribs.
He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding against mine. When he exhaled, it wasn’t a broken gasp but a long, shaky sigh. His body softened, melting against me until he was heavy instead of tense, calm instead of burning.
I closed my eyes as his fingers strayed to my waist. His heart still thundered, but the jagged edge finally smoothed. The medical scent of his fever began to fade, replaced by the faint, bitter flavour of blood.
Tilting his head, his lips moved against my throat—not a kiss, just a slow exhale as his hand slipped from my waist and pressed against the mattress.
I expected him to push upright. To break our overwhelming embrace. But...
His breath ghosted over my throat again, slower this time. Hotter.
The world shrank to the weight of him above me, the burning closeness, the tension that cut sharper than a knife.
In a single breath, he made me ache and ache and ache.
I couldn’t move.
Didn’t want to break the spell or face the repercussions.
His head lifted, skimming his nose along my neck, my jaw...
The air between us throbbed.
The silver disc over his heart pressed against me with warning.
He shifted closer, his hips sinking deeper between my legs as his mouth hovered over mine.
My eyes popped wide, trying to see if he knew what he was doing, knew how close he was to—
Our lips brushed.
He.
Froze.
His eyes flew wide and whatever trance he’d been in shattered. He jerked off me so violently, the silver metal on his chest flared with a red light beneath his shirt.
Snarling, he crashed onto his back beside me, grunting in pain.
And I did what any crazy, almost-kissed captive would do.
I rolled over and burrowed my face into his damp, hot neck. I hugged him as if I could protect him. And incredibly, he didn’t fling me off.
His hand that clutched his heart clutched my arm that I threw over his chest instead. His fingers bruised me as he held on, but just like before...he slowly calmed as if I did have the power to help. As if my presence affected him, just like his presence affected me.
Whisper snorted and paced the edge of the bed, grumbling with worry.
Not daring to move, I whispered, “It’s okay, Whisper. He’s okay.”
With a soft chuff, the cat accepted my assurance, yawned, and flopped down.
Stillness crept over us. Silence eased into the cracks. But Lucien didn’t move which meant I didn’t move.
I lost track of time before Lucien finally exhaled and tapped my arm to release him.
Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling.
Would he kill me for this?
Would he scold me, strike me—
Wordlessly, he pulled up the blankets that I’d shoved to the bottom of the bed and dragged them over both of us.