Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“If I say yes, you’ll want to know why I seek any kind of intimacy with a woman who despises me.”
“Uh, to be fair, I want to hear the explanation even if you say no.” She faced him. A mistake. He snared her all over again.
A calculating gleam lit his narrowing eyes, and oh, did she like it. “Take off your shirt,” he said, “and I’ll tell you.”
Well. The Astra certainly wasn’t above using circumstance to his advantage. Of course, he probably figured a refusal was imminent, considering she currently wore a top and a pair of panties. The jammies she’d donned before bed. But sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Keeping him off guard was definitely for the greater good.
“You can look,” she said, whipping off her shirt and bearing her upper half, “but you can’t touch.”
His lips parted. “Exquisite,” he breathed, and her stomach hollowed out.
Staring at her breasts, he ran his hands up her sides. Would he break her rule?
To her astonishment, he stopped just before he reached the no-go zone. “So soft,” he praised, sounding drunk.
She held her breath, waiting for his next move. What would he do?
He reached back, grazing his fingertips over her wings. The gentlest of touches yet ripples of heat sped through her entire body. “So perfect,” he said as her nipples puckered.
A whimper escaped her, his admiration a potent brew of power and confidence. Unable to remain still, she toyed with the ends of his hair. “The price has been paid, Warden. Give me what I desire.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed—and still he stared at her breasts. “I am a virgin, yes. The touch of others has always been...unpleasant to me. If the sensitivity didn’t stop me, the screams did.”
Wow, wow, wow. Even though she’d expected such an answer, she hadn’t expected such an answer. First, he’d just admitted it. Second, she kind of wished he’d refused to respond. To know he had spent countless centuries devoid of affection after he’d endured countless centuries of torture and pain...
The urge to hug him bloomed. An urge she couldn’t allow to grow. Focus on the conversation. “I remember the screams very well. I’ve heard them. Do they spring from your childhood?”
He licked his lips. “They aren’t memories. I’m able to absorb immortals if I choose, trapping them inside my head.” With barely a pause, he exploded into motion, gripping her hips and yanking. Hardness met softness, and pleasure whipped her. Then he thrust just as she arched her spine. They rubbed against each other.
A dam broke. Neither of them stopped. They slowly ground together. Panting. Moaning louder and louder. She couldn’t think...needed to think. The goal was to ruin his concentration, not her own. Maybe?
She gripped his shoulders, holding on for the ride. Every lash of pleasure robbed her of more sense, sending her thoughts spinning into an endless ether. So so so so so good! Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Have you ever been kissed?”
“Never,” he rasped.
“Do you want to?”
He snapped his teeth at her. “More than anything.”
Her heart galloped. “Do you hope to lose your virginity? With me?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Yes, Lyla. With you. Only ever with you.”
Whimpering, she leaned into him. With her lips hovering over his, she said, “Tell me why you waited, and I might take off my panties.”
He double blinked. One of his hands shot into her hair, fisting the strands. With the other hand, he cupped her backside and took control of her motions. “Because,” he all but hissed. “There’s your answer. Now take off your panties.”
With great effort, she managed to focus and brush the tip of her nose against his. “Because why?”
“Because,” he repeated, tightening his grip. “I don’t know, can only guess.”
Did he maybe, possibly consider Blythe—widow, mother, enemy—his gravita?
For some reason, the very idea pushed her toward the edge of climax.
Teeth clenched, he said, “You spent so much time in my spirit...my body must not consider yours...a foreign invader.”
Oh. Yes. Okay. That made more sense. And she wasn’t disappointed about it. She wasn’t! She slowed her gyrations, easing from the ledge. Being his fated mate would have made it easier to subdue and kill him, but so what? Easier wasn’t always better.
And what was she even doing, fraternizing with the enemy like this?
“How much time is left on my clock?” she demanded, going still.
He bared his teeth. “You zeroed out two minutes and thirteen seconds ago. I didn’t want to stop you. You looked like you were having such a good time.”
No he did not say that.
A knock sounded at the door. “You’re needed on the third floor,” a woman called. The siren. Blythe recognized the voice. “You’re the guest of honor at a mandatory council meeting.”
She shot to her feet as if she’d been caught cheating on her consort. In a way, she had. Voice like ice, she said, “We’d better dress and go.”