Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“Sevastyan.” She whispered his name. A soft little plea.
“I’m right here, baby. We’re not finished yet. I just want to make certain you’re with me all the way on this.”
He slid one hand from her throat to her breast, cupping the soft offering, his thumb and finger rolling her nipple firmly. She seemed to respond to firmer pressure rather than gentle. The moment he touched her she arched into him, offering herself to him. He tugged a little harder, watching her expression closely for any signs of discomfort.
Flambé was an open book, not one to hide behind a mask. Pleasure and need were easy to see. His heart stuttered when something else crept into her gaze as it moved over his face. Something he’d never had. Never seen. She looked at him with an expression far too close to reverence. Bordering on real adoration.
Real. He didn’t get real. He didn’t even deserve it. He was going to turn her life upside down. He knew he would. He would protect her. See to her happiness as best he could. Respect her. But . . . He shifted his body to blanket hers, kissing his way over her face. He could fall in love with her and that would be a disaster for both of them. He couldn’t chance really loving her. And he’d fall fast and hard if the way the unfamiliar emotions crowding in were anything to go by.
He had been born with more traits of his animal than many of the shifters. He could be quick-tempered and when it happened, it was bad. Very bad. He had worked hard to ensure he covered it up, held his rage in, but it was there, smoldering below the surface all the time. He was extremely alpha, very dominant, so much so that he had always feared it would be impossible to find a woman who might be willing to accept him. He was also very sexually dominant and at times that burning rage, the dominant trait and his sexual needs came together in a ferocious combination that might frighten any woman. And then there was his love and need of Shibari, his rope art. He would never give that up.
Already he felt possessive of Flambé. Wanting to hold her too close. Afraid of losing her. If he let himself love her, what kind of monster would he turn into? He kissed his way to the creamy swell of her breasts. He loved her skin. He wasn’t just oral, the way most shifters were; he was extremely tactile too. He’d been denied the pleasure of indulging in anything so simple as touching a woman’s skin or hair for more than a few seconds because Shturm despised every human he came close to and wanted to kill them all. He didn’t dare spend more than a few moments with a woman, especially after he fucked them. That was when he was the most vulnerable and his leopard could surface fast and push his way out if Sevastyan wasn’t alert.
No one had skin or hair like Flambé. At least if they did, Sevastyan had never been around them. He took his time, exploring every inch of her, claiming her body for his own. He had to open his drawstring pants with one hand and push them off his hips as he suckled her breasts, using teeth and tongue, totally indulging himself while she writhed under him, her hips trying to move but held down by the weight of his body. She didn’t mind him rough. If anything she seemed to want it—want him the way he needed to be.
He loved to hear her little broken cries. The soft sounds of need. His name that came out like a plea. He’d not had that either—not ever—and it was addicting. He took his time moving down her body, kissing his way down her rib cage. He discovered she was very sensitive under her breasts and around her sweet little belly button. She had a strong core, but was very much a woman with a woman’s body, and he liked her figure. He wanted her to keep that little bit of a pooch he was certain she detested. It was barely discernable, but soft enough that he spent time nipping with his teeth and taking the sting away with his tongue.
He caught her thighs in his hands and pulled them slowly apart. Wide. Very wide. Her gaze jumped to his face. His shoulders were wider than she realized, and he was going to spend some time indulging himself even more. His smile was deliberately wicked as he stripped off his pants with one hand and then settled between her legs, stretching them even farther. There it was again. Sevastyan. His name. That breathy little moan.
He blew warm air over and into her. She smelled delicious. “I told you, baby, you’re going to have to be comfortable doing the splits. I like you in this position. You’ll find yourself in it often.”