Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
That mix of fear and thrill coiled inside her. She was only supposed to grab the knife, but she needed ever more of this.
He inhaled deeply. Could he scent her arousal? “Gods, I’m going to devour you.” His hips rocked, drawing her gaze.
She whimpered to see his penis had grown impossibly larger. It strained against his pants, its shape encased in leather. She could make out every lurid contour. Would his swollen shaft be hot? That member sweltering in its leather cage?
Want to touch it. Gaze locked on his erection, she licked her lips.
It pulsed, and he groaned brokenly. Fresh blood dripped from his palms. Her tongue against her lips had made him react more than when she’d pierced his heart!
Emboldened, she leisurely circled one of his flat nipples with her fingertip. Round and round and round she went, while a growl rumbled up from his lungs.
When she scraped her nail over the tip, he jolted as if she’d done more violence to him. “Kereny!”
What if she massaged his erection? Gave him a below kiss? She could fell him. Vanquish his will.
So this is how you master an immortal. Despite all his terrible strength, he was hers to do with as she pleased. “Is my touch honestly so different?”
He nodded. His voice broke lower as he admitted, “Woman, I could lose my fucking mind over you.”
His gruff admission annihilated her resistance. She felt as if she’d been born for this. In the face of so many delights, she thought, Maybe I was.
Maybe she had been born for him.
She remembered a stormy afternoon from her sixteenth summer. She’d been scouting the forest when lightning had struck a nearby tree, scoring its trunk. The light had inscribed itself in her eyes, in her memory forever.
Now she felt like that tree, and Munro was lightning personified. She’d just been minding her own business when she’d been seized by an outside force, one that planned to transform her forever. She burned from the inside out, her body weeping for him to do whatever he wanted with it.
Put her on all fours and devour her . . . penetrate her . . .
Take me, turn me, mate me.
“You asked me how I know you’re mine,” he said, his brogue caressing her. “I was told that when a Lykae finds his mate, it feels like the hands of gods have reached out to touch him, like his soul’s been branded. That’s how it was with you. As soon as I caught your scent, I was changed forever. Electrified.” Exactly as she felt! Seized by lightning. “Kereny, there’s no denying it.”
Could she deny it? When even now his voice seemed to awaken her? She instinctively knew that she would never have this level of intensity with another man. The wolf was simply too captivating, too sexually attractive.
“I’ve awaited you for nine hundred long years.”
He was nearly a millennium in age! Because he was deathless, a nonhuman. That reminder came before all was lost, briefly weakening his spell.
Using her sleight-of-hand skills, she made her move.
“I must have you for my own,” he said, none the wiser. “And I know how to do it. I’ll steal you from that mortal male one orgasm at a time. You’re going to choose me because I’ll bring you more pleasure.”
She would stop this now. Any second.
He was a different species. He’d lived through eras. She was married.
Yet her finger decided to brush one of the Lykae’s nipples again.
“Gods almighty!” His hips bucked, as if beckoning her to that huge ridge.
She couldn’t resist the urge. Her hand descended, and she traced her forefinger above the waist of his pants.
“Yes! Touch it, lass. Touch it.”
She watched in shock as her finger dipped inside toward that bulge. Taut leather over tauter flesh. She gasped as she grazed the slickened head.
A curt yell broke from his chest. “Killing me! I’m on the verra brink.”
She delved in again, swiping the pad of her finger over the slippery slit.
“Unh!” His head fell back, tendons straining in his neck. Sweat made his skin sheen. “You’ll take my come from me . . . with naught but your clever finger.”
A howl rang out, then another. Those sounds—as cold and shocking as that waterfall—cut through the spell. She removed her hand from him.
He groaned with loss and lowered his head to meet her gaze. Inhaling for control, he adjusted his member, then gave a hoarse exhalation. “Kereny?”
“I heard Lykae howls.”
“Did you?” He’d quickly masked his reaction to her words, a slight narrowing of his eyes.
But she was a carnie, trained to read such tiny revelations. “If I’m hearing the newlings now, you must have detected them before.”
Another exhalation. “Canna say that I dinna.”
“Your roar must have brought them early.” Realization hit her. “There were no demons.” The newlings separated him from that portal to Louisiana.