Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Both my tone and smirk are teasing, “That doesn’t sound so bad for me…”
Ptur lightly chortles on a shake of the head. “You won’t hear me complaining when the time comes, either.”
While the need to be sexually fulfilled doesn’t appear to be dialing down, the desire to connect on the described level seems to be steadily soaring up.
Perhaps it’s his level of respectfulness. The fact that he wants me to think things through rather than act rashly. He knows how levelheaded I tend to be when making important decisions in both my personal and professional life. His understanding of that combined with his dedication to support my magical as well as my non-magical side have me wanting to drop down on my own knee and fucking propose despite the short duration of our relationship. Ptur gets me in ways no other male ever has…and in ways I can’t help but believe no other male ever will.
True.
“We’ll discuss bonding when your Primal Thirst has passed,” my half announces at the same time he finally shifts his talons back into a hand, “and if you think you’re ready for what that entails, we’ll plan a bonding night in which I will cook for you. Bathe you. And spend hours worshipping every inch of your beautiful body inside and out.” He undoes the button on his suit jacket. “As for now, you’re gonna ride my tongue until you need my help walking off this fucking elevator.” The moan the statement conjures causes him to devilishly grin. “Turn around.”
For some reason, my ancient warrior half has me kicking my chin to purr, “Make me.”
Ptur closes the distance between us in two short strides to do just that. Regardless of the struggle I attempt to give, his strength effortlessly overpowers mine. The quick twisting of my curvaceous frame is instantaneously followed by my head being firmly pushed against the wall. His grip on the nape of my neck is presented thrashes of resistance that only spur him to clutch harder.
Growl louder.
Drag what feels like a claw along the curve of my ass.
Cool air covetously caresses the skin I wasn’t expecting to become exposed the way it has, robbing me of all the oxygen in my lungs; however, just as I prepare to snatch it back, a sharp, savage swat bounces the round flesh, eliminating my ability to do anything other than scream. The sound I elicit receives an amused grunt and another swift strike.
And another.
And another.
And another until the pain that’s pooling in one cheek is shifted by spanks to the other.
The aching between my thighs intensifies exponentially each time his palm pitilessly slams against the tender skin but creeps towards completely unbearable when the wetness from being so worked up goes unacknowledged during its descent down my thick, trembling thighs.
Once the other side is sore and throbbing like the first, the smacks begin a harder, faster unpredictable oscillation, shooting me to the very tips of my toes on every hit, and viciously ripping otherworldly howls from my vocal cords until they’re left raw and weak. Comprehending the difference between pain and pleasure, discomfort and delight, irritation and intoxication becomes an improbable task as the feeling of Ptur’s palm ceaselessly forces me to teeter what many believe to be is an impossible truth.
Opposing sensations can cause the most delectable bliss.
Tears begin to fill the rims of my eyelids as the desperation for more…for less…for some unknown third option leaves me open handedly banging the wall to be given whatever else my body is commanding that my words can’t form. When my half’s hold suddenly disappears, I prepare for what I hope is a change of heart about our bonding yet am delivered a knee knocking lick along the small of my back, an area that’s always been more sensitive than it should be. The murmur of satisfaction inside seeps its way outside, growing louder and heavier the instant his teeth scrape the delicate skin.
“Half,” I needily pant, hips anxiously jerking backward, begging for him to bite.
His grumble rattles the entire elevator. “Say that shit again.”
“Half.”
My submission is rewarded by a barbaric bite that causes the faintest bit of blood to drip down the crack of my ass and fuse with the juices I can’t stop spilling. Additional, impatient pounds of the wall come on the heels of mewling sounds I didn’t know I was capable of making considering I’ve never made them before. The faintest arrogant grin is felt against my backside, but rather than waiting for me to address it, his tongue slips between the rarely touched area to maintain his control over the situation.
Over me.
Us.
One long lick spreads the wetness upward.
Stops when it reaches the tiny tight hole.
Transitions to a whirling motion that has my toes damn near breaking in my flats as I struggle not to come.