Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“It is indeed true that sangferia can exponentially increase a preter’s strength, but most of the experiments are focused on Caros.”
“Oh. Okay. I see.”
She actually looked torn between relief and disappointment, and for the first time in his life, Hexius also experienced something similar. Her reaction made him want to smile. Almost. But it also made him want her again. Now.
“All is not lost for my kind,” he said gravely, and this time, Hexius really did have to press his lips together when he saw the way she brightened.
“Does that mean there’s something I can do for you?”
“If results from the new set of experiments conducted by the Faes are to be believed...oui, there is. But it has nothing to do with your sangferia.”
“Then what—”
“For shifters like me—”
All she managed was a gasp, with Hexius using preternatural speed to accomplish what was impossible for humans...in just mere seconds.
One moment she was standing behind his desk, the next she was seated on its surface, his hands braced on either side of her hips. The glass was cool beneath her bare legs, and he could smell her sharp spike of arousal mixed with confusion.
“H-Hexius?” She looked at him with wide, startled eyes, but he also noticed her breasts rising and falling more rapidly beneath the shirt she wore.
“Your essence is what I need to consume, and you, mine.”
“I...I d-don’t—”
“The more we feast on each other, Samira, the stronger our bond will be.”
A strangled gasp was all she could manage, as in the next second, Hexius also had his massive desk cleared with a swift sweep of his hand. Papers scattered to the floor in a cascade of white, his laptop sliding away with a sharp scrape of metal against glass. Samira was now flat on her back, her legs parted wide—
“H-Hexius!”
His nostrils flared, but it was not only because of the air perfumed by her innocent need for him.
But something else.
Someone...else.
To hell with it.
He dipped his head as he placed her legs over his shoulders, his grip on her bare thighs keeping her in place even as she did her best to struggle. Her skin was impossibly soft, warming under his palms, and he could feel the fine tremors running through her muscles.
The fabric that covered her most intimate flesh was already drenched with her desire, and Samira’s choked cry bounced against the walls of his office as he traced her folds through the damp lace. Gently. Lazily. He wanted her relaxed, waiting patiently for the tightness of her muscles to gradually ease...
Finally.
He ripped the scrap of lace from her body to taste her. Pleasure her. Own her. The first touch of his tongue against her heated flesh drew a broken sob from her throat, her hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. He did it again and again until she was gasping and sobbing, her body shuddering, her head tossing from side to side on the cool glass surface...
“P-Please...”
She sounded like she was about to lose her mind.
Good.
From here, everything became faster. Deeper. Harder. He didn’t even let her catch her breath. He needed her to stop thinking completely and just feel. His tongue delved into her sweetness, tasting her desperation, her surrender. And when her back finally arched—
“Jouis pour moi, Samira.” Come for me, Samira.
And his future wife, ah, she was exquisitely submissive, a moan spiraling out of her throat as she obeyed his command, and the feast finally began.
This was not his first time to pleasure a woman in this manner. But he knew right away from the very first moment her essence coated his tongue, all sweet and creamy heat—
He knew that the experiments of Lysander Allard were indeed working for both him and Samira, with her essence tasting more delicious and addictive than he could ever have anticipated.
He lapped every drop, his perfectly responsive Samira whimpering and her entire body jerking as if a jolt of electricity would course through her body every time his tongue made contact with her oversensitive flesh.
He tried to make it last for as long as it could...while at the same time doing his best to ignore the other woman’s scent that had now invaded his office.
The scent of youthful arrogance, mistakes, and secrets.
The scent of the past he’d thought buried.
Brandy.
Chapter Seven
THE WORLD IS STILL hazy when I sense, rather than hear, Hexius saying something as he slowly pulls away.
I watch him straighten his shirt, and I realize only when he’s done that he’s watching me watch him. Eep.
“Remember what I told you.”
He cups my chin to give me a swift, hard kiss...and then he’s gone, the door already swinging shut in silence before I have a chance to catch my breath and tell him that I actually can’t remember what he said earlier.
Embarrassment starts creeping in as I slide off the desk on unsteady legs. Is this...normal? For my would-be husband to suddenly up and leave like that? I know he said something earlier, and I know it’s my fault that I don’t remember what he’s said...but that doesn’t excuse him.