Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Oh gods, that sounds so good. As he rocks against me again, hot need pulses through me. I whine, needing him desperately. Urgent need is rippling through me, but it’s not quite enough. I need more to send me over the edge—a finger on my clit, a finger inside me, something. “Nemeth,” I pant. “Make me come.”
He leans in and growls low, a dangerous, feral sound. As he does, he pinches my nipple between his claws. The jolt of pain-pleasure is surprising, and as he drives against my pussy again, I come. It’s a hard, messy sort of climax, and I make choked sounds as he thrusts against me, rippling waves of pleasure shooting through me as he teases my nipple and then squeezes my entire breast tightly. The air departs my lungs as I clench and clench with my body’s reaction, and when I finally unclench, a little moan escapes me.
Nemeth thrusts against me one last time and then collapses over me, his big body practically burying me in the bed. Someone else must have come, too.
I giggle at how good I feel, holding him tight as he pants, his weight pressing me down into the blankets. “Now that was a savoring. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
He groans, nuzzling against the top of my head. “You’re determined to exhaust me, aren’t you?”
Maybe just a little. He’s just too fun to be with. Even now, I can’t stop smiling. I stroke a hand down his shoulder. “Tell me about a Fellian ceremony for marriage. What does it entail?”
“Mmm.” Nemeth kisses the top of my head and then carefully rolls onto his back, minding his wing. I turn on my side, facing him. “The usual. A bath to cleanse yourself as you head into your new life. Vows before the gods and an offering of cake. The biting. The marking. The chase—”
“The what?” I sputter, sitting up. “Did you say biting?”
He nods, facing me. “Yes. Give me your hand?”
I hold it out to him, and he traces the mound just below my thumb with one claw. “Here. We bite each other here and then ink is rubbed into the wound so that the mate’s marking remains for all time. Anyone that sees your hand will know that you are claimed, and the bite pattern is unique to your mate.”
I shiver with aftershocks as he rubs his thumb over the fleshy part of my hand. “Is it painful?”
“It is a bite. I will make it as good for you as I can.” His gaze slides to my mouth. “Yours will probably be more painful for me because those tiny teeth of yours don’t look like they tear flesh easily. My hand will be mangled by the time you are done with me.”
I laugh, slipping my hand out of his grip and batting his arm. “Be nice! I have perfectly normal human teeth. I’ll do as well as I can.”
“And I will enjoy it because it is my mate marking me as hers.” His eyes seem to glow brighter at the thought.
“Now what’s this about a chase?”
“After the bride and groom have given their cake offerings to the gods,” Nemeth continues, “The bride flees the groom. It is my duty to capture you—to prove my strength—and fly you across the threshold of our home.”
Except he can’t fly inside the tower. And his wing is wounded. “I assume we’ll improvise?”
“Considering you’re human?” He gives me a sly grin. “We must.”
Chapter
Forty-Six
It doesn’t matter how good I feel after my delicious orgasm or how convicted I am of my path. I have nightmares that night, of King Lionel dragging me from the tower for betraying my people. Of my sister spitting on me, her child in her arms, as the stone tower is destroyed with Nemeth still inside. Of being dragged through the streets of the capital and my people throwing rocks at me.
Vestalin whore, they cry.
I want to protest that I’ve always been free with my affections, that it’s only now that they have a problem because of who my partner is. But dreams are impossible things and my mouth won’t work. I can only scream silently as they stone me and call me names, and somewhere behind me, the distant tower is being destroyed with a broken Nemeth buried alive in a sea of rubble.
Vestalin whore!
I gasp awake, my body bathed in cold sweat. It’s pitch-black in our chambers, and I can’t see anything. My breathing rasps hard in the silence, and for a moment, the tower feels oppressive. My skin crawls with the need to escape, to drink in the sunlight, to be free—
“Candra?”
A hand strokes my arm. Nemeth’s sleepy voice instantly reminds me of his presence. I look over and see two glowing green slits of eyes, the only light in the darkness.