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)
There was no tenderness in the way his lips moved over mine, in what he tasted or took.
Stunned, my arms were uselessly frozen at my sides, my body stiff from shock. Yet I squeaked, each sound of protest swallowed down or covered with his demanding grunts and snarls.
No reprieve from a relentless opponent was offered.
No opening I could exploit.
The threatening hand at my throat altered its grip, burrowing into my hair until the base of my skull was cradled in his palm. His tongue dipped into my mouth, and I squealed as he teased.
The taste of him was sweet. When I bit down, his blood did nothing to injure the flavor.
He tasted exactly how the room always smelled—distracting and delicious.
The fact that I liked it, stupidly realizing the source of that fragrance had never been the toxic flowers around the room, enraged me.
Claws cutting through his uniform, burrowing straight into the meat of his arms, I maimed what I could. But academy females were forced to keep them short, and he either didn’t care or failed to notice the damage I’d done, intent instead on pressing his chest to my breasts so that incessant thump vibrated straight into me.
His drumming, the rapid clicks, that unknown specific rhythm, brought a peculiar feeling tingling under my skin. Strange new sensations whispered to my brain that I better flee before the circling predator took down his prey and began to feast.
Too much adrenaline overburdened my system. I began to shake, to hyperventilate from all that sweet scent.
Lightheaded, I lost more ground.
An unfairly simple alteration of his hold took advantage of my sudden weakness. His lips left my mouth, pressing hungry kisses to the edge of my jaw as he worked toward my ear. The sensitive flesh of my earlobe was sucked into his mouth, sensation forcing me to my toes.
Sharp teeth nipped wet flesh. “You have no idea how long I’ve had to wait.” The flat of his tongue licked at the vulnerable shell before he might whisper, “How badly I’ve needed to fuck you.”
That word again.
His tone was filthy, and I was completely out of my depth.
With a shuddering exhale, woozy as if drugged, I finally found the will to demand he stop. “What are you doing to me?”
Pulling at the buttons on the front of my dress, he met my eyes with no shame. “You know exactly what I’m doing.”
Ruining me? Was he going to give me the fog after all?
No.
This was something different.
This was something that had to stop immediately.
“This isn’t right.” Breathless and muddled, my hearts raced so fast I could hardly think straight. “Don’t do this.”
Fabric tore, and he found my naked breast. A forceful grip took hold of flesh that felt strangely swollen, and my eyes rolled back. It felt so wonderful that before I might realize what I was doing, I arched my back to press against that warm touch.
Whatever noise escaped me left him groaning in response. The rattle in his chest grew louder, rhythmic, each vibration palpable.
I began to sway, so very dizzy, unknowingly matching his beat thump for thump. Paired with heady breaths and languid kisses, the pair of us made rhythmic music.
Drowning in the sweet smell and the feel and the taste, my defenses crumbled.
Even my sight grew fuzzy around the edges.
There were no words, no coherent thought. Somehow, my hands had tangled in blond hair, pulling his head lower so those wicked lips might sample my exposed breast.
A hot mouth closed over a part of my body I had no idea could know such sensation.
Sucking my nipple into his heat, his tongue teasing each nerve, he drew an animal cry straight from my lips.
Delirious with pleasure and more of that sweet scent, I didn’t think to resist when he kicked my legs apart. A muscular thigh came between my knees, propping me up so his mouth might attack my other breast.
Clinging to his shoulders, an uncontrollable urge to rub myself against his leg left me rolling my hips in search of something I could not name.
But when the scaled flesh between my legs made full contact with his bulk, horrible pain came upon me. Radiating from the apex of my thighs, a rolling wave of sharp agony went screaming through every nerve.
Rigid, I cried out, clawing my way up his body to end contact where it felt as if I’d been stabbed with a rusty blade, “Stop!”
No relief was found—the general pressed his advantage. Instead, that horrible tearing rip of awfulness moved higher, cramping internal agony following.
Sobering torment led to a moment of terrifying lucidity.
I was locked in a red-hued room, pinned to the wall by an untrustworthy male. One who was watching me with unflinching ferocity as he tore at what was left of my clothes.
General Cyderial—my tormentor—was the reason I was in such agony.