The Beginning of Everything Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #1)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
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Mars allowed this.

But he did not take hold on my body.

He did not press anything from me.

That was when I touched the tip of my tongue to his lips.

They opened.

I slid inside.

He tasted warm and musky and delicious.

He also made a low noise I felt in regions south of my belly.

So I pressed my lips harder to his, tilting my head, sliding my hand up into his hair at the back.

He put both hands to my hips.

I liked their weight. Their warmth. The steadying feel of them.

I didn’t know how, but nevertheless, I made an attempt to coax his tongue into my mouth.

Mars didn’t make me work at it.

He gave it to me.

I sucked it deeper.

And gods, but I loved that stud in his tongue.

A lower, rougher noise rumbled into my mouth as his tongue played with mine.

I gave him more of my weight in my hand at his shoulder, this resulting in his hands sliding to the small of my back, one gliding up my spine.

I liked his touch.

So much, I trembled. And it was a trembling that felt marvelous to me.

I bent my elbow and gave him more weight.

Mars fell back, wrapping his arms around me, so I fell with him, to land on his chest.

Oh.

All that hard man beneath me.

So, so…

Lovely.

I lifted my lips from his and whispered, “Mars.”

He rolled me so I was on my back and he was partially on me.

Oh.

My.

So lovely, that hard man on me.

“Mars,” I breathed.

And he kissed me.

It was deeper, sweeter, his hands roaming my sides, my hips, my ribs.

I pressed up into him, trying to share I wanted more.

He in turn pressed into me and I felt it. Something I might fear, but in that moment, with him as he was, us as we were, I did not.

It made me feel powerful and beautiful and womanly.

So I met the hardness at his hips with my body, arching into it.

“Silence,” he growled against my lips.

“Mars,” I whispered against his.

We were looking into each other’s eyes.

I noticed some unusual red in his that had to be a reflection from a lantern before whatever question he was asking was answered and I took more of his weight.

I also got his mouth back.

His tongue.

And this was no longer a gentle, exploratory dance.

There was hunger.

I knew what it was instantly.

And it was utterly enchanting.

I met it with mouth and touch, our tongues dueling, my hands wandering the skin of his back, tracking the slopes, riding the dips, not discovering, claiming.

He rolled off, pulling me up, righting us in bed, falling to his back and drawing me over him.

And there was so much of him.

I’d had his mouth.

I wanted more.

I dipped my head and took his flat, brown nipple.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Oh no.

I’d done something wrong.

My head shot up.

His hands came under my arms and yanked me up before he took my mouth again, his fingers diving into my hair. I could feel the pins loosen, the curls falling, the ribbon sliding out, but only vaguely.

My betrothed was not hungry.

Now he was starving.

And feeling that from him, knowing I made him that way, he took me there with him.

I explored his neck.

He explored mine.

My hands were urgent on him.

His hands were urgent on the buttons on the back of my gown.

His lips at my ear, he groused, “How many of these bloody things are there?”

“Too many,” I breathed.

And there were.

Way too many.

My skin felt hot, burning.

The dress had to go.

He sat up and I came up with him, straddling his hips, my knees fighting material.

He tugged at my skirts.

I did too.

“Fucking acres,” he grumbled.

I almost giggled.

I didn’t giggle.

My skin was far too hot.

I needed that dress off me.

And Mars on me.

Immediately.

Eventually I pulled it away at the neckline and lifted it up.

Mars helped me, pulling it higher.

I raised my arms and he gathered the folds, freed me of it, tossed it aside…

And I sat astride him in nothing but my white lace corset and panties.

Suddenly, I needed my dress back.

Until Mars’s eyes fell to my body.

That red came back, and I felt my brows titch together at the sight before I was thinking nothing.

I was on my back and Mars was at my side, drawing my panties down my legs.

“Mars,” I called tremblingly.

He looked from my legs to my face.

And his eyes were afire.

“I promise,” he stated gutturally.

I didn’t know what he promised.

I just knew he meant it.

I nodded.

He shifted down, rolled over one of my legs, moving the other aside, then he…he…

Gently pressed them apart, dropped his head…

And he fed from me.

The touch of his mouth was such beauty, the stroke of that studded tongue sheer bliss, my back bowed, my toes curled, I cried out, unable to contain the pleasure I was experiencing.

Mars tossed my legs over his shoulders, spanned my hips in his big hands, and bore down on me.


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