Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Now, will you undo me from these damned chains?” I growl.
She lets out a ragged laugh and looks around the room, spotting the key hanging from the wall. I exhale loudly, relief flooding through me as she walks over to me and reaches up with the key, releasing me from my shackle.
I pull my arm down, the blood rushing back into it, prickling like a thousand needles, but once she’s released me from the other chain, I waste no time.
I grab her face, one hand at the back of her neck, ignoring the fact that I can’t feel my fingers properly. “I love you,” I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest.
Then, I kiss her.
Soft at first, while feeling comes back into my body, savoring the velvet of her lips, the taste of citrus on her tongue. A mouth I had dreamed about for so long, one I never thought I would kiss again.
Then, my grip at the back of her neck tightens, and as my body comes back to life, my hunger for her returns.
I kiss her deeply as the moment washes over me.
That she’s here, now, with me, and that I’ll never let her go.
My tongue dips deep, unyielding, starving, our mouths opening against each other as all the tension inside is unleashed. She whimpers, her hands trying to grab me where she can—my biceps, my chest, running her nails down my back.
There is urgency thrumming through my veins now, and I waste no time taking what I want.
I break away from our kiss, our mouths wet, our breathing heavy, our eyes wild as we stare at each other, overcome with lust, with love, with hate, and everything else in-between.
Then, I pick her up in my arms. My ankles are still shackled and chained, but I have enough room to turn around and push her up against the wall. I quickly shove the end of her shift up as she wraps her legs around me, and I position my cock at her cunt. I intended to tease her with it, to wait, but need burns through me like a forest fire, and I quickly spear my cock inside her until the air is pushed from her lungs. She’s so wet and warm that my eyes roll back in my head.
She gasps, holding onto my shoulders, her fingers briefly turning into claws, sharp enough to pierce my skin. Of course, the pain only makes me more insatiable.
“Fuck,” I groan as I start rutting into her. She’s so tight, tighter than I remember, and I need this, I need this so much. I think I might die before I see this version of heaven again.
“Larimar,” I whisper, my lips at her neck, biting lightly, biting hard, drawing blood. I drink and I fuck and I feel everything, everything. So many years, decades, centuries, so many prayers I thought would never be answered, all culminating in this moment, in the apex of not just desire, but love.
I love her.
She loves me.
And I need to come inside her like there’s no tomorrow.
I grunt, picking up the pace, my hips slamming into her as I drive deeper and deeper, as if I’m trying to embed myself in her soul.
She’s so wet too, her own cries so sinful, so raw, mixing with the slick sounds of our urgent coupling. The wooden planks behind her creak and groan, adding to the symphony.
I reach down, feeling the swollen knot of her clit, and she lets out a ragged gasp as I start rubbing her in firm, quick circles.
“Such a good girl,” I murmur, watching her face intently as her orgasm builds, seeing it in the pink flush on her fair cheeks, the dark swirl of her pupils, her shiny open mouth. I only break eye contact to stare down where my cock disappears inside of her, glistening with our desire. “Such a good girl with such a sweet cunt. Look at the way you take me, like you were made just for me.”
Sometimes, I have to wonder if I did make her this way for me, so that we fit just right. Perhaps when I created the spell, I created the perfect woman, one who would be my final redemption.
But Larimar was perfect to begin with. Even if she stayed a Syren, I would have found God and all his devils inside her. I would have loved her with all of my dirty, wicked heart.
I would have found myself there.
Salvation.
“Can I make this better for you?” I whisper to her through a groan, my hips starting to move faster, harder, bruising her.
Her eyes widen in a look that says how could this get any better, but then I place my other hand at her throat and wrap my fingers around it.
“Trust me,” I say to her, because I need her to trust me. I need her to believe that I would never want to hurt her. If she can submit to this, then she has nothing to fear.