Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
His lashes fused together. “Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm. Want me to prove it?”
“Yes,” he hissed at her. “Prove it to me.”
Viori undulated her hips. Softness brushed against hardness, only two swaths of material separating their bodies: her dress and his leathers. He sucked in a breath—but he didn’t start tearing at her clothes as she hoped. No matter. She wasn’t done.
“Give me what I long for, Micah,” she rasped, whipping her hips with more and more force. “And I’ll keep doing this.”
“Keep doing that.” Leaning into her, letting his lips hover over hers, he snarled softly, “What do you long for?”
“You.” Again, the admission left without permission from her mind. Pleasure mounted when he whipped his hips in turn. Heated breath sawed between them. His air, her air. Their air. Their everything.
Still, they held each other’s stare. Rocking together. It was...it was...so good. Too good. Too intense. Viori couldn’t make herself care as she plucked her nails free and roamed her hands over the perfection of his chest. Muscles, muscles, everywhere. Scars that teased her palms.
He was so incredibly beautiful, his features sculpted in pleasure and strain. His pupils had exploded over his irises, only a ring of amber visible.
He quickened his pace, rocking, rocking. She quickened hers. Then again. He growled. His gaze dipped to her lips. She gasped again. The next thing she knew, their lips were crashing together in a tangled rush.
They devoured each other. Kissing and rocking and clutching. Kissing harder, rocking faster and clutching desperately. Over and over, again and again. Pleasure rocketed higher. Higher.
“Is this what you want from me?” he growled against her lips.
“Yes. No. Yes. Want more.”
“Then take it.” His low tone dared her to obey. He rubbed the perfect spot, earning a gasp from her. “Take what you need.”
The command shoved her near the edge, setting off an explosion of heat. Sharp pleasure. Nearing bliss...an avalanche rolling through her, growing stronger. Stronger still. Viori cried out as she ground against him, seeking the culmination.
Losing my mind. “Micah!”
He ground against her, too. Hard. Harder. Yes, yes, yes! There! Crying out, she broke apart inside. Clutching at him, she soared, overwhelmed, and overcome...but finally right.
When the haze thinned, she was panting and holding him tighter than ever before. Viori peered at him, wide-eyed. Never want to let him go. Want to keep him always... The instinct surged to the surface, demanding her complete attention.
He lowered his chin and met her gaze again. He panted, too, his color high. Something odd happened to her then. Various streams of warmth spread through her, as if multiple dams had broken and now flooded her.
Was that...feelings? Oh yes. So many feelings. Glorious tides of affection, admiration and wonder. The deepest yearnings. They were awful and wonderful and terrible and intolerable and dangerous.
She gulped. This male can hurt me worse than anyone else ever has.
What did he feel for her? Something? Anything other than sexual desire?
“Remember this,” he stated, withdrawing from her clutches before claiming his own release. Her legs shook, weakened as her skirt settled around her ankles. “When you crave more, you must pledge your fealty to me to get it.”
Oh! He hadn’t wanted her too much—he’d wanted to win their battle of wills, and he’d tried another tactic. How dare he use her own plan against her. “I pledge nothing but your downfall!”
“Consider your pledge fulfilled.” He sounded deadened inside. “I fell the first moment I saw you.” He walked away from her then, setting up camp, acting as if she wasn’t there. Meanwhile, she couldn’t put a single thought together.
He had already fallen? For her? He... She... Argh! What did this mean?
Viori leaned against the tree for balance, reeling and fuming and reeling some more. By the time he placed their evening meal on the blanket, a sense of vulnerability overtook her. He was crashing through her defenses, one by one. Now she was supposed to dine with him?
“Come,” he said, waving her over. “Eat.”
Swallowing a whimper, she plodded over and plopped beside him. She’d grown to hate this part of their day so much.
He reached out, elevating a loaf of sweet bread he’d foraged from an abandoned caravan. Would he offer her the crusty end or the soft middle? In other words, the worst or the best? Wait. What was that noise? Her ears twitched.
Micah must have heard the rustle of leaves and branches, too, because he palmed two daggers as he flittered upright.
“I’m sure whoever it is will go away,” Viori cried, desperate to know the truth. Had he fallen for her?
“On your feet. Be ready to run.”
Viori rose, as ordered. Run? Yes. She wore her husband’s stupid collar, making her as helpless as a newborn. Relying on someone else—anyone else—had never ended happily for her. But she stayed put. Like a fool!
Elena and Sabot materialized a short distance away, both riding a centaur at top speed. Viori didn’t mean to, didn’t realize she’d even done it until too late, but she inched closer to Micah. The male who had collared and chased her. Pleasured and abandoned her. Who might still plan to imprison her and hurt her children.