Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The soft, proud thrum ushering from his chest was in strict contrast to the following threat. “Your song called to me, the strongest male. You called to me after countless females had been unable to sway my attention. The universe compelled me to learn patience, leaving me waiting for one-hundred-and-forty-three lonely years until my genetic complement might be born. Now, we are bonded. Already, rapid alteration is taking place throughout every cell of your body, sealing you to me. We are one, and a female cannot be without her mate once he has claimed her.” Thoroughly pleased with himself, strong arms enclosed me in a gentle but firm embrace. “You’re angry now, but your body will crave mine. You will want me. Do not resist, and I will be gentle with you.”
He could not make me want anything to do with him. “I will not submit.”
“I have ways to compel your submission.”
Where his drumming had faded to little more than a purr, it pulsed back to life.
“That won’t….” But I somehow lost the thread of what I’d been meaning to say.
The room began to smell wonderful again, a sweet spice mixing with the scent of sex. Wooziness followed, lulling me to grow liquid and unable to resist his warm caress.
Soft kisses came to my lips, my eyes, my nose. “Surrender.” Cupping my cheek to settle my head just so, the man murmured, “I will take care of you while you rest.”
In my stupor, I felt him lay me ever so gently back on the carpet, arranging my limbs for my comfort. My protruding belly felt the heat of warm palms, his massage working where I was swollen, the touch easing the discomfort of the crushing pressure.
I felt so good.
His warm body against mine was dreamlike. His tongue at the shell of my ear and the filthy promises he made were delightful.
The strong male showed me he knew what to do with my body, so I purred under his touch and exploded with a shattering moan when he nipped at my throat and fingered the sensitive flesh stretched tight around his knot.
Cunt, he’d called it in those lurid whisperers. Cum, seed, a binding promise that made me totally his. The handsome blond with a strong body and the power to take what he wanted.
Waves of fluid came to splash against my insides, more for me to bear.
When I was full, he began to knead my protruding belly from a new angle. Unsure why he did it, sleepy and spent, I wanted him to stop so I might rest.
But he would not put his work aside. Cock dancing and prodding through my belly, hands working in tandem with the wriggling thing. It almost seemed as if he stroked himself through me, milking his organ and pushing what poured from it somewhere important.
I dreamed despite the minor annoyance, surrounded by perfect sound and saturated in sweet scent.
Until he was pleasuring me again, drawing me out of my deep stupor to luxuriate in rapture. Stroking my throat, weighing my breasts, learning the dip and curve of my waist, he praised my beauty and worthiness. Grunted demands and soft, coaxing words urged me to arch my back for more and enjoy every climax, every last orgasm, he might give me.
He'd been slow and forceful, both languid and violent, throughout the many hours I’d been reduced to my animal self.
When I was far past exhausted, when no amount of pleasure might ease the growing aches in my body, at long last, the knot receded, a warm wave of viscous fluid pouring out of me as my belly contracted at the loss.
I should have been mortified, disgusted. But all I knew was relief.
“Sleep now, beloved. Our new life begins when you wake.”
15
Thirst dominated strange dreams that made it impossible to find comfort on my cot. Skin slick with sweat, I kicked off my blankets, groaning at the heat as a terrible craving for water clawed at my parched throat.
I was a furnace, and the sunlight was too bright through my tiny window.
Groaning into my pillow, I thought to hide my eyes in soft white fabric.
Except my pillow back at the academy was gray.
Blinking sleep from my eyes, I held my breath, taking in the wrongness of my location.
My bed was not this soft or large. Nor was it in a room with walls painted a soft shade of blue I’d never seen before.
But it was the windows that drew my eye. So many I had my choice of vantage points. With light so bright the building had to be high up above the churning fog.
That light was actual sunlight. Not the artificial illumination we were drenched with to keep our vitamin levels up at the academy.
Suddenly, I was very much awake.
And feeling quite ill.
Cautiously, I sat up, dragging a silken sheet over my nakedness while wide eyes took in that foreign room. The bed was massive, larger than five of my cots back in the dorms. Above it stood a canopy, each corner draped with flowing gauzy material pure as morning fog.