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)
With a nod, he said, “It’s through the door behind you. Take all the time you need.”
As in, he wasn’t going to follow me? I could work with that. Sliding backward, dragging the sheet with me to cover naked flesh, I eased slowly off the bed—my eyes never leaving his form. One slow step at a time, I worked a backward path until my reaching hand found a wall at my back.
“To your right.”
Three steps to the side and I found the lavatory’s threshold, slinking back first into another unknown space. Before he might intrude, I closed the door, snarling to find there was no lock.
The need to pee hastened me to the fanciest toilet I had ever seen, where my bladder emptied in a rush that reminded me of another warm rush that had surged from between my legs the last time I’d been lucid.
A flood of ejaculate that had ballooned my belly, gushing out of me once the growth around the base of his cock subsided.
Hot and frothy, smelling divine, it soaked us both as my stomach deflated until the length of his cock could be seen where it still lay in my guts.
Obscene.
Now, my torso was no longer swollen with male fluids. Flat, one might think I had dreamed the distortion. And though my skin didn’t so much as display a bruise, I was oddly uncomfortable inside and out.
Achy and incredibly hot.
A recessed alcove to my left resembled a large shower, shelves behind a door made of glass filled with bottles of things I assumed would clean a body. There was no knowing when he might intrude, and no certainty I would have another opportunity to bathe… yet I was unsure.
My skin felt sticky against the sheet, my hair tangled and stinking of fluids.
If he found me repulsive, he might not touch me again.
No. That wasn’t going to stop a male who had been calculating his assault for a decade.
For sanity’s sake, I needed to be clean. The thought of a cold shower almost had me in tears, so I dropped the sheet and dared to allow myself to be cornered in the tiled space.
My mind hooked on thoughts that had to be addressed, I ran through my sorry mental list of what I knew of hybrid mating habits. They mated for life. The general had bonded to me. He would fuck me again. Maybe as soon as I left the bathroom.
And I knew General Cyderial. He had told me himself how possessive he was of his mate.
Said it right to my stupid face as I sat there ignorant as the day was long.
All those years, those scant, important, life-altering conversations had been with the man who had been planning to claim me all along.
A male full of tricks that confused me, that made me forget to resist.
He would use them again if I refused his advances; I did not doubt it at all.
Ruthless. His studies of how to pleasure me, as he’d claimed, had given him the greater advantage. Not to mention his greater strength and resolve to take what he considered his.
This was an opponent I had fully underestimated.
And I had lost. Ultimately, I had been ruined, my wish granted in an unexpected turn of events.
Those windows showed me that I was so high above the fog that I wouldn’t be able to hear its song nor smell its earthy richness.
From up here, it would be like staring at the top of a glowing white cloud, missing the damp that would have soaked my uniform and left my hair dripping.
So, tears dripped instead.
Silent tears fell from a stunned woman who had no idea what to do.
But I could start with a shower, move through the motions until something might make sense.
It was also okay to be clean. I could be comfortable as I grieved everything stolen from me.
And he had not come into the room, for I had been incessantly checking the door.
Plumbing more advanced than the simple knobs at the academy, the shower took some time to sort out. Summoning fresh water required the use of a high-tech interface that displayed options I did not understand. I requested cold water to cool my fever, directing the system to pour down from the showerhead above.
Letting go of the sheet took effort, but I could not wash his sweet smell from my skin if I kept clinging. It fell to the floor, and I walked into the icy spray.
Burning skin was soothed, my hands rubbing all that cold water into my face as if I might scrub my mind clean of all the ick.
Two bars of soap sat on the ledge. I chose at random. Efficiency was key in the academy; I could scrub from nose to toes in one minute flat. It was the cascades of hair that ate up the rest of my minutes before rotation would be called.