Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
“Yes, I’m familiar with the adage about enemies and their proximities,” he says dryly.
“Then you understand why I’m bringing my sisters to be my ladies-in-waiting.” I pause so he can object, and when he doesn’t, I go on. “Their husbands won’t move against you if their wives are in your house, serving your queen, under constant scrutiny from your guard.”
“They won’t move against me from Newfoundland, either,” he points out.
Newfoundland? Yikes.
“So, are you forbidding me?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. The motion draws his eyes to my cleavage. Good. I hope he suffers from the worst ball-ache in history tonight.
“I’m not forbidding you. I’m just not sure what currency you think you have to spend here.” He sits back down, knees apart. “You’re hardly in a position to demand things from me.”
“You want me to have sex with you to buy this favor?” I wasn’t entirely unprepared for that possibility when I got dressed to come here.
“Sexual bargaining is what you brought to this marriage. Not me,” he reminds me.
“One night,” I tell him. “This buys you one night.”
“This is an awfully big favor for just one night.”
“Then you’ll have to make the most of it.” I wonder if he’ll wait for the full moon, if he’ll take me out in the woods, under the starlight—
The attraction that binds us grows almost painful. I ignore it, he does, too, and we both end up just pretending we’re not miserable not having sex with each other.
He considers a moment. “I hope you understand what you’re offering me.”
A chill runs up my spine; am I missing something important in this conversation?
“You may bring your sisters here. Say it’s on my royal command. If there are any hard feelings about having to leave their mates, they can direct those complaints to me,” he says.
“And in return, what do you want?” Since this is a negotiation, I’m open to pretty much anything. I want my sisters back that badly.
“One night. Just as you’ve said. But I will plan to make the most of it, per your suggestion.” He leans back in his chair, the black silk boxers riding up his muscular thighs. “You may be quite shocked by what I ask of you.”
“Maybe not.” I will be. There’s no doubt about it. No matter how much porn I may have furtively watched on my phone this week, I’m still easily shocked by things that are apparently normal for most of the mortal world. “But it’s not going to be tonight.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking such a thing. I don’t expect payment until delivery.” He motions that I should come closer. “I do, however, require a show of good faith.”
“What—” I begin, but he just gets more comfortable in his chair and tugs down the waistband of his boxers. He’s half-hard already.
“In your own time,” he teases.
My face flames with indignation. I’m supposed to, what? Blow him as a thank you for listening to me?
But my mouth waters at the thought and before I know it, I’m on my knees on the awful bearskin rug, my hand circling Nathan’s cock as best as it can.
“You’re more ruthless than I imagined,” Nathan praises me as I slowly stroke him. “I’m impressed.”
His erection surges in my hand and I murmur, “I can see that.”
Yay for me, my mate is aroused by the fact that I’m bartering sex.
I hold his gaze and lick my lips as I lower my mouth to the head of his cock. I let my breath drift over his tip as I say, “I’ve never done this before. You’re the first.”
He groans, his eyes locked on mine as I suck him between my lips and swirl my tongue around him.
What is it about men and wanting to be the first? Hannah once mused that it was probably because those men were bad at making women come, but that’s not a logical argument when it comes to Nathan. He’s more than capable of getting me off; I think he’s just turned on by the fact that he’s the only one who’s had me.
Possessiveness isn’t a turn-on, I remind myself. Sadly, it’s the only way I can feel like he actually gives a damn about me. And if it weren’t for our connection, he probably wouldn’t give a damn at all.
I take as much of him into my mouth as I can without choking myself, and he grips the arm of the chair with a clawed hand. So, I’m doing something right. I close my eyes, so I don’t imagine that hand on my body. So that I don’t imagine peeling off my nightgown and climbing into his lap to ride him.
My pussy clenches at the thought and I begin to make all sorts of stupid excuses in my head about why it wouldn’t hurt to fuck him, just this once, and go right back to hating him. What do you care if he has someone else in his life? You’re his mate. He belongs to you.