Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
It hits almost the same moment he gives his permission. I howl as light explodes throughout my body, but suddenly Kharon pulls out.
I whine at the loss of fullness, but he continues to rub my clit through my climax, riding his hand shamelessly.
I only blink dazedly when I feel him pull away from me and watch as he takes his slick cock in hand and jerks it roughly.
“What. . . are. . .?” I can barely manage words, and my legs shake from aftershocks.
His face is strained as he answers. “Don’t want to get you with kit,” he says, two-fisting his cock.
I watch in excited fascination, not able to help myself from reaching down to my own swollen, overused clit and rubbing myself. The orgasm that finished is still lingering and amps right back up again.
He watches me and strokes himself harder, almost furiously.
Another blinding orgasm hits at the same time cum erupts out of him. My eyes are on his face this time. The agonized look of pleasure there. I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s watching me like he’s pained by how beautiful I am. How good the pleasure is, so precious, so shocking—
I want to memorize this moment.
Part of me wishes I could forget everything I was before and who I’ll be when I leave this place.
I only want to exist with him in this pleasure-drenched forever.
Chapter Nineteen
KHARON
She is the most beautiful, perfect treasure.
I want to keep her.
I can’t keep her. She’s not mine to have.
I am in agony, and all I want to do is be buried inside her again. I did not know. It is probably better that I didn’t know what I was missing all these years. I would’ve been driven truly mad, indeed.
To have this and then lose it. . .
I stare into the darkness, knowing morning will soon come. We will continue our journey to deliver her back to her world. To her life. A life where I am not welcome.
I will return to my cold prison. I’m not locked to dungeon walls anymore, but it’s still a prison all the same.
Hannah is starting to realize it, I think. Yes, she has the child, but what company are the rest of us? We are monsters who have tormented one another for our entire existence. We cannot escape our life or go among the humans because we terrify them.
Abaddon has condemned her to this life because he is selfish.
Even if Ksenia were willing, how could I do the same? How many years before she started to hate me for the isolation being with me would mean?
Romulus is the only one among us who can pass undetected among humans. He occasionally talks about taking Hannah on day trips to the cities where she can be among her own kind, but Abaddon is so concerned about the angelic threat he has cautioned her against it. And she has listened.
But how long will she be able to bear the remoteness? She calls us family and says we are enough, but I’m afraid it is lip service said out of love for her mate.
And yet, when the rectangle above lightens enough for me to leap and dig out the gathered snow so we might begin our journey again, I am loathed to do so. Growling at my hesitation, I leap and begin to dig, throwing the snow off furiously.
Only the winds outside are still howling, the snow still pelting my hide like angry little pellets.
The storm has not yet passed. Relief and joy slam through me at the realization.
We must stay a little longer.
I grin wide before I catch myself and frown. What am I thinking? I’ve just reasoned that being with the beautiful, amazing, perfect Ksenia is an impossibility. Any continued closeness with her will only be torture in the long run.
And yet, when I leap back to the church floor, bringing a load of snow with me for water, all I feel is happiness.
“Where did you go?” her voice says from the darkness. I need to add wood to the stove, both for light and warmth, and immediately get to the task.
“The storm has not abated,” I say gruffly, trying not to let my joy at this fact show in my words.
“Oh,” she says. My heart beats quickly, waiting for what she will say next. Will she express sadness that she cannot get home as quickly as she hoped?
“Then come back to bed. It’s cold without you.”
My heart sings with happiness as I shove the last of the wood in the stove and hurry back to her side.
I slide into the sleeping bag beside her. We put one beneath us and zipped the second over the top. Well, we could only close it on her side since it had no hope of closing over my large frame. I worried she would not be warm enough without it fully zipped, but she said as long as the fire was going and I was at her side, she would stay warm.