Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
One big hand settles on my shoulder, as if claiming me. Zohr pauses in his deep thrusts, and I feel his hand push between my legs again. His fingers slide over my clit.
That. That was what I needed.
My entire body tenses up. I cry out, pushing my head down against the blankets. Oh god. Oh godohgodohgod. Now it’s coming. He rubs against my clit again and thrusts into me with one of those teeth-rattling thrusts, and I give a choked cry. I can feel my pussy clench around him, tightening. All of me is tight. My toes are curled, my hands fisted, and that bowstring is so close to snapping…
He rocks into me again, hard, and rubs my clit once more. This time, I come with a scream. The world shatters around me and it feels like everything’s exploding. My thoughts are cascading—just like his—into chaos, and I come and come and come.
God, it feels so good.
I feel like I’ve shattered and been put back together. Somehow. I’m panting, waiting for my body to slowly unwind itself as I come down from my orgasm.
Zohr has other plans, though. He slides his finger along the side of my clit and thrusts into me again, his hand anchoring my shoulder. It feels like I’m coming all over again, and my body seizes up with another orgasm. This…this is so not possible. But when he thrusts into me again, through the haze of my mind, I realize that not only is it possible, but oh my god, it’s amazing.
He doesn’t stop, either. It doesn’t matter that I’m still coming and I can barely breathe with the force of the orgasms ripping through me. He just keeps stroking my clit and thrusting into me with fierce, possessive strokes. I’m coming again. And again. Or maybe I’ve just never stopped. All I know is that I’m practically limp when he snarls my name once more, and his movements become jerky.
Then he’s coming, too. His hands lock onto me, tight but not painful, and I feel the heat of his release wash over my insides. It’s…strange. He pins me underneath him, his big body covering me, and his thrusts grow smaller, slower, as if he’s reluctant to stop.
As if he never wants to let me go. It’s a…strange sensation. In the After, I’ve learned it’s better to be alone. To depend on yourself. But when Zohr relaxes and lies on his side and pulls me against his feverishly warm skin, I feel…happy. Protected.
It’s a feeling I shouldn’t trust, but I guess I can enjoy it for now.
17
ZOHR
Agony.
My back feels white hot with pain. I cannot breathe without it slicing through me. There is no comfort. Through my muddied thoughts, I realize there is a weight on my chest, but it is a slight annoyance in comparison to the torment that is my shoulders. I groan, stretching against the chains that tie me down, hating them…
Only to realize that they are not there.
I can move my hands.
The realization is slow to dawn on me. I am not captive any longer. The slight weight I feel pressing on my chest? It is not the vest of metal thorns, but the small, soft body of my human mate, her head pressed against my shoulder, her arm flung around my waist. She clings to me in her sleep, her skin sweaty against my own.
Vague memories start to flood back. They are mere pieces, wisps of thoughts darting through the foggy cloud that is my mind. There are memories of Emma, trying to free me. Emma, standing small and alone as two humans point their fire-spitters at her. The face of the hated Salorian, his eyes alight as he presses his mind against my own, demanding that I give in to him.
There is rage in my memories. So much rage, then nothing but madness. Pain. Through it all, there is a need to protect Emma, to keep her safe.
I have vague recollections of pushing through the shackles that held me captive and transforming to battle-form. Of knowing I must do so because my mate needs me, and of the agony the transformation brought as my wings were destroyed. I think of the endless, blurred hours of racing through the dark, filthy human hive to find a place where my mate can be safe. It rambles together, into a pile of thoughts I can make little sense of. I have visuals and feelings, nothing more. When I try to focus on them, to clarify them, they disappear on me.
But one thing I do remember is Emma’s big, dark eyes staring up at me with so much fear. The scent of her terror filling my nostrils and how angry it made me. Her gentle words. You have to change, Zohr.
I did it, for her. I remember that. I remember that even lost in my own mind, my greatest desire was to please her. I changed to my two-legged form, but after that, things are blurry. After that…my memories are of nothing but Emma, and the memories take a very different turn than the ones of fear and anger and frustration.