Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
She couldn’t take anymore. She just couldn’t. A sob escaped her before she could swallow it back.
Cain draped himself over her again. “Shh, you did good. Always do.” He slipped an arm loosely around her neck while his other hooked around her waist—surrounding her, holding her, caging her, making her feel safe and turned-on at the same time.
“I’m going to fuck you now, but you’ll be so swollen inside that this might hurt.” He plunged his cock into her pussy, forcing himself deep and, shit yeah, it hurt. “There we go.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re going to come so hard, you know.”
She shook her head, pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it again.
“Oh, you will.” He dragged his mouth down her throat. “So will I.” He bit down on her neck and rutted on her.
Cain groaned at the wet sounds her pussy made as it sucked at his cock. She was fucking soaking. Scalding hot. Almost unbearably tight she was so damn swollen.
There was nothing restrained about him in that moment. He took her like a savage, feral and aggressive, trusting her to tell him if it was too much. Each furious thrust made her body jolt and her tits bounce.
He kept a firm grip on her neck with his teeth, urged on by his creature—it wanted nothing more than to take a big bite.
Her inner muscles kept spasming and clenching, edging him closer and closer to his release. Her choked moans and breathy whimpers licked at his balls. The scent of her swamped him and filled his lungs, sweet and drugging. She was a fucking drug.
The control might always remain in his hands, but she goddamn owned him. Consumed him. Intoxicated him.
“I’m close, baby. Need you to get there first.” He toyed with her clit and struck her soul with a blast of stinging pleasure/pain.
Her head snapped up, her inner muscles clamped around his cock, and a scream scraped at her throat.
Growling, he slammed harder, faster, rutting on her pussy because it was fucking his. And then he exploded, shooting bursts of come inside her.
Bloated from her stew, Wynter would have leaned back if she wasn’t perched on a bench. “That sure hit the spot.”
“We really should eat here more often,” said Delilah beside her, brushing her hands together to wipe away pie crumbs. A roar of laughter came from the bar, which was far busier than it had been when they arrived an hour and a half ago. “Even if it is seriously loud in here,” she added.
As it was their day off work, they’d done some shopping and then decided to eat dinner at the tavern. Not far from the cottage, it was pretty popular. It was also a total throwback to medieval times. Lights flickered in the grease lamps. A cauldron of stew hung above the fireplace. The air was warm enough to be stifling, but the breeze filtering through the open shutters helped.
Most patrons sat at the long-ass, wooden tables. Others stood at the bar or relaxed at the seating area near the fireplace. Servers went back and forth, taking orders, delivering food, and clearing away dishware.
The scents of smoke, baking bread, roasting meat, and fermented drinks laced the air. Beneath the chatter and laughter of the patrons was the crackle of flames and the hiss of stew spilling out of the cauldron and into the fire.
“Okay, I gotta ask,” Xavier burst out from his seat opposite Wynter, his eyes on her. “And don’t be closed-minded about this. Just consider it. On a scale of one to ten, how angry would you be if I killed that fuckhead mage over there?” He briefly slid his eyes to the tavern’s main bartender.
Wynter sighed. It really didn’t take much for Xavier to consider someone worthy of a death sentence—something she’d been working on with him, but it wasn’t easy when his upbringing had led to him forming a somewhat warped conscience.
“You know, I was so proud when you didn’t request the go-ahead to execute him after he told you to stop dating his sister,” Wynter told him. “I thought that just maybe you and I were making progress. Now I see that it was simply wishful thinking on my part.”
“It’s not like he’d be missed,” said Xavier.
Wynter snorted. “Oh, I think the other mages in Will’s conclave would totally notice that their Shaman was missing.”
“Can’t you at least trap him in the netherworld for a little while?”
“On what grounds? Other than that you don’t like him and the fact that he calls you ‘kid,’ neither of which are reasons for someone to die.”
Xavier placed his elbows on the table. “All right, how about the bullshit rumor he’s been spreading about me?”
Wynter felt her brow crease. “What rumor?”
“That I’m a compulsive liar whose word can’t be trusted.”