Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
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“Unless you need alone time, Ambrielle, I’ll join you,” he decided. “Tell me if you prefer some time alone. I’ll understand.”

She tilted her head up and smiled at him, instant joy brightening her features. “You know I always prefer to be with you. I’ll go in and grab us a couple of towels. I’ll put up my hair.” She caught up her coat and took his when he handed it to her.

Master stripped off his shirt and then opened the hot tub. He’d gotten a nice one. He needed the heat on his body. There were times when his muscles knotted up, complaining no matter what he did. He stayed active and kept fit to counteract the damage done to his body, but oftentimes he hurt like hell. He stripped off his motorcycle boots and peeled off his jeans. Steam rose from the hot tub into the night air.

Master climbed in and sank down into the extremely hot water. A sigh of pure pleasure escaped. He should have gotten himself a drink before he indulged though.

As if hearing his thoughts, Ambrielle opened the middle glass door to the bedroom. “Would you like me to make you a drink?”

It never occurred to him to ask her. Others didn’t do for him. “Depends on whether or not you’re any good at it.” He couldn’t help teasing her.

She tossed her head, making the topknot go a little wild. One hand went to her hip. “I rock at bartending. Usually, I’m not so bad at stealing knives off people too, but that Destroyer might have more than two eyes. What do you want me to make you?”

“Yorsh,” he replied soberly.

Her eyes went dark and that little chin of hers went up as if she’d challenged him. She wore a little robe and nothing else. He could see her nipples hard and tight in the cold. Those breasts and her tucked-in waist with the flared hips were enough to entice him, but once you added that chin, he was a goner.

“Coming right up,” she said and turned and went back inside.

Just like that, she’d turned his dark mood around. It felt good not to be alone. It felt especially good to have someone want to do things for him, like get him a drink. It took her a little longer than he thought it would, and when she returned, she had two drinks with her. She had them in cocktail glasses rather than in beer mugs, which made him smile. Bog, but she was perfect. There was a little cucumber garnish on the edge of the glass. She handed him one of the cocktail glasses, looking more anxious than nonchalant.

“I’m not sure how it turned out. The lager you have, I hope is what you really prefer in this drink. I tried it and it tastes okay.” She made a little face.

He didn’t give a damn how it tasted. She made it for him; he’d drink it. If it wasn’t right, he’d show her how to make it later. “Get in here, princess.” His voice had gone husky, almost a growl.

“I want you to drink that one, Master. If it isn’t good, I’ll go make another one.”

“I want you to get in here with me. On my lap. Stand over my cock.” Deliberately, he circled the growing monster with his fist.

She moistened her lips, leaving them gleaming, already shedding the robe. He loved her body. Loved looking at it. All those feminine curves. His. He wanted his marks on her. She climbed over the edge of the hot tub, gasped as the heat engulfed her, but she came right to him and threw one leg over him, as if he were a motorcycle. As if she were already Torpedo Ink.

“Stand right there, baby,” he ordered softly and picked up the cocktail glass. Her tits were jutting straight at his mouth, right where he wanted them. Bog, she was beautiful, and he didn’t deserve her, not even for these fantasy moments.

He drank the Yorsh, shocked that she’d been able to get the mixture of lager and vodka right. He drank the second one, got rid of the glass, caught her by the waist and pulled her forward so he could indulge himself, his mouth around her left breast while his fingers found her right one, kneading and massaging. She was sensitive, crying out and catching his hair in one fist, holding him to her.

When he lifted his head, his gaze burned over her. “On my cock now, princess. I want you to ride me slow. Put your hands on my thighs behind you.” He could barely get the command out.

Because she was his fairy princess and he was living his fantasy, she did exactly what he said. Water sloshed over the top of the hot tub. He worshipped her tits. Kissed her over and over until the fire grew so hot between them it was explosive. All the while she rode him with a slow, exquisite silken friction that threatened to make him lose all control. His fingers bit into her hips and he began to guide her faster. She resisted, keeping that slow, steady pace designed to drive him out of his mind.


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