Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
My hands latched on to his arms to hold on, my body shaking with his thrusts. My fingers dug into the hard muscles of thick arms, and with every thrust, I dug deeper and deeper. The reconnection of his body with mine was better than I ever expected it to be, so overwhelming that I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my throat.
His perceptive eyes watched every subtle reaction I made, every attempt to resist the white-hot chemistry between us. But he knew he had me right where he wanted me. His breaths deepened and came out shaky, and red blotches formed on his skin, all the blood rushing everywhere. “This is how a king fucks his queen.”
I resisted the contractions my body naturally made, the way I wanted to tighten around him and slip under the veil of unbelievable euphoria, but I controlled my body, kept it dormant as best as possible.
He moved over me even more, hitting me so deep even though he knew it hurt in the best way, and rocked his hips in a different direction, grinding his body right against my clit. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”
I released an unstoppable gasp, but the friction was so damn good. My body had gone to sleep these past few weeks, covered in cobwebs, and now it was more alive than it’d ever been. At odds with myself, I couldn’t hold out much longer. The only thing that helped me keep it at bay was the potent stubbornness I’d had since birth.
He fucked me harder, the anger mixing with arousal in his eyes. Barely holding on and growing angrier that he had to, he took his rage out on his thrusts, making them deeper and harder. He wouldn’t release unless I released first, so this was a very complicated battle of wills—and he refused to lose. “Come on, baby.”
“Don’t call me—”
“I can call you whatever the fuck I want right now.” His hand grasped my hair, and he held on to it tightly, fisting the strands like reins to a horse. He forced my head back, forced my eyes on his. He hit the bed even harder, the headboard smacking against the wall with the pace of a running stallion. “You’re my wife. You’re my queen. You’re mine.”
The resistance snapped, and I couldn’t hold on any longer. In betrayal, my hips bucked involuntarily, and while the scream remained quiet behind my lips, the tears pooled in my eyes then dripped down my cheeks. It was so good, too. So deep and throbbing. So potent and satisfying.
He couldn’t wait for me to finish. His hips gave their final pumps, and he filled me with a masculine groan, conquering my body the way he’d just conquered my homeland. His cock thickened inside, twitched in victory, and dumped all of his arousal deep inside me.
He’d won.
And the look of victory in his eyes made that very clear.
TEN
Elora
After I forged the sword, I tightened its shape with a hammer, making the grooves in the metal very distinctive. Then I plunged it into the pail of cool water, solidifying it. A burst of steam erupted from the bucket, along with a hiss.
The door to the shop opened. Ian appeared, dressed in the garb of royalty, the Rolfe crest on his chest. He gave me a long stare, like that was enough to address his point. “Has he come?”
“If he had, don’t you think I would have told you?” I pulled the sword out of the bucket and returned it to the table. Now I had to sharpen the edges, which took quite a bit of time because the blade had to be even on both sides, had to sing as it sliced through the air. “How’s being king?”
“I’m not the king. I’m just standing in for the queen.”
“Alright…how’s being queen, then?”
His eyes narrowed into a pissed-off expression.
I grinned and kept working.
“Assuming Necrosis doesn’t attack again, rulership is easy.”
“All things are easy in peace.” I skimmed the side of the blade and carved out its sharpness. Now that I’d experienced Ice, the regular metal we used seemed dull. If I could get my hands on more of the material, I could make an armory of weapons that people would risk their lives for. “Have you heard from Huntley?” I left the blade on the table and addressed him directly.
“Just got his missive. They’ve taken Delacroix. Faron is dead.”
“Awesome.”
His eyebrow cocked. “You okay?”
“Uh, why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Because he was technically your father.”
I rolled my eyes. “A father is more than the deed. A father is a guardian, a friend, a confidant. Raping a woman doesn’t make you a father. It doesn’t make you a man either. I couldn’t care less that he’s gone, and I hope Huntley made him suffer before it ended.”
Ian let the subject drop. “Let me know when he approaches you.”