Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
I pull away slightly to look down at her. Her eyes are closed tightly as she continues to pant. Her skin is flushed a beautiful pink and her plump lips are parted. The sound of her shallow pants makes me worry that she’s in too much pain. I nuzzle her neck and plant a small kiss on the crook of her neck. “More, my love?” I wait with bated breath. Her arms wrap around my back and her blunt nails dig into my shoulders, keeping me close to her. I fucking love it.
“Yes!” I pull back just enough for her to feel the loss and I fucking love how her pussy grips my dick, wanting to keep me inside of her. I pump in again, all while watching her expression of ecstasy. “More, Alec.” She whimpers, keeping her eyes closed.
“Look at me.” Her eyes open as I thrust in and out with a slow pace. I grab her calf and put it against my chest as I push deeper into her. I hit her cervix with each thrust, making her breasts bounce and small whimpers escape. Fuck, it feels so damn good. Her eyes stay on mine the entire time and I fucking love it. She bites her lip as I increase my pace. I pull her ass off the desk, just enough not to hinder my pace, and thrust in even deeper. She cries out and I lean down to catch the sound of her pleasure between my lips. I bite her bottom lip gently and continue rutting into her heat as I feel my balls draw up and my spine tingles with my impending release.
I pull back and watch her writhe under me. “You’re such a good girl. Staring back at me like I told you to.” My words set her off again and she struggles to obey as her body trembles beneath me. Her mouth opens as her pussy clamps down hard on me while she comes. A cold sweat breaks out along my skin as I find my own release. I push deep inside of her, filling her. My come leaks in between us and onto my thighs. I fucking love it.
I lean down to kiss her with every bit of passion I have as I struggle to catch my breath. She breaks our kiss to lean her head back and breathe. “I love you, Alec.”
“I love you, Bella. I love you enough to do whatever it takes.”
I’ll never let them take her from me. Never.
I will burn the world before I let them take her.
DRAGO
In the Castle of Silver Isle
The smack of our boots against the hard, black marble echoes as we make our way toward the throne room. The fire crackles in the torches perched on the smooth walls of the long hallway, and the sight of the orange embers and bright flames warms my chest. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the need for fire.
“I don’t know why you care what the sorcerer has to say,” my brother mutters with disdain as we near the carved stone doors, shattering the small bliss I’d gained from the vision of the flames.
“I’ve grown bored, Cyrus.” I roll my shoulders and crack my neck as my palms slam against the hard stone and part the doors for us. They swing open with a loud groan, granting us access to the massive room. Our thrones stand tall in the back of the room, bathed in the glowing light on the far wall. The intricate metal shines with wealth and power.
“Grown bored of luxury, Drago?” Although Galen’s tone is teasing, he knows just as well as I do that this castle is tiring. There’s nothing of interest as of late and my inner beast craves a challenge.
“When was the last time you stretched your wings, Galen?” My brother narrows his eyes in irritation. “It’s been far too long for me.” Both brothers, one on either side of me, snort but fail to answer my question. I answer for them, “Nearly a decade.”
“You’re bored of luxury, yet I’m bored of fighting the weak.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes at Cyrus’s arrogance.
“Some fights were worthy.” He huffs in amusement. “If they weren’t, then there would be more than three dragons still in existence.” It’s a cold reminder and the chill of my words settles deep in my veins. The air around us grows thick as we separate and each take our place on our thrones. I take my seat in the center and enjoy the feeling of the hard, cold metal against my bare back. I strum my fingers along the arm of the throne and take in each of my brothers in turn.
Cyrus is the youngest by nearly a decade, although no one would know. The three of us are nearly identical in appearance even though we were birthed separate. My father’s genes are strong; we’re the spitting image of him. I remember his cold, dark eyes, nearly black, but they sparked red with his anger. We have his thick dark hair, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones. Our broad shoulders and hardened muscles complete the image of utter dominance and power.