Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Closer. Just a bit closer. You will be all mine.
The person stopped, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long, dark woolen coat. The black material highlighted the almost pearlescent glow of his pale skin while sparkling green eyes fixed on him.
Rafe lifted the bow from the strings at the end of the tune, and the last note hung in the air, moaning and shivering for an extra heartbeat before flying off to the clouds.
“How could one so beautiful play a song so sad?” the man inquired.
“Even beauty can long for the other half of his soul.” Rafe sighed. He turned and tucked the violin and bow away in the case beside his foot.
“I find it hard to believe you haven’t found your mate. You must have had countless lovers flock to your side. How have you not located this person?”
Rafe smirked, lifting his gaze to lock on the creature standing at the edge of his reach. “I’ve found my mate, but he’s a cruel, heartless man. He’s wandered away. I thought if I played the cries of my heart, he might find his way back. But alas, I think he has forsaken me.”
Green eyes flared, and it was growing more difficult to not laugh at his own foolish words.
“Forsaken you?” the man repeated, an extra bite to his tone. “If you dared to lose your soul mate so easily, maybe you should consider that he wasn’t worth keeping.”
“Never. Mon amour is the essence of perfection. There is no one in all this world who has a kinder, more generous heart. There is no one who possesses more courage or strength than he. And there is no one who has sweeter lips that whisper words of love and devotion in my ear when we rise each night.”
The man shrugged and half turned away from Rafe as if he were planning to continue along the path. “A cruel, heartless man with a kind, generous heart. Nonsense. Utter nonsense. The only logical answer is that you drove this amazing creature away. You’ve done it to yourself, and I have no sympathy for you.”
The man took one step, and Rafe lunged, grabbing a handful of his coat. He pulled while collapsing, trapping his companion in his lap. There was no chance to move. His arms wrapped around his prey, pulling him in as close as possible.
Rafe dipped his head, nuzzling that perfect, pale throat. He opened his mouth, dragging fangs across the fluttering artery just begging to be pierced. So close to having that hot, rich blood pouring down his throat, stealing that bit of his lover to hold inside of himself for all time.
“Rafe…” His name was a pleading, needy sound that urged him on.
“Philippe, mon amour, how could you say such things about me?” Rafe whispered against his flesh. “Even uttering the words that I would drive you away is too mean.”
Philippe tipped his head back, providing Rafe with better access to his throat. His silken locks spilled over Rafe’s hand, tempting him to capture them in his fist. Rafe lifted his head enough to see that Philippe’s lips were parted, revealing his sharp, white fangs.
“Are you not cruel as well?” Philippe whispered, seeming to lose himself to Rafe’s kisses. “Accusing me of wandering away from you.”
“I—”
“Is this what you call role-playing?” the very last voice Rafe wanted to hear right then inquired.
A soft moan of frustration tumbled from Rafe’s throat while Philippe shook in his arms with silent laughter. Almost in unison, they turned their heads to see a tall, slender man in a dapper suit and bow tie dotted with jack-o’-lanterns standing a couple of dozen feet away. His black hair was wild about his head, and a confused expression drew lines across his youthful face.
On either side of the man stood a wolf. The largest of the two was black, like a fanged shadow, while the smaller was a mix of gray and white. One hand rubbed the head of the black wolf while the fingers of his other hand seemed to caress the ears of the small, gray one absentmindedly.
Rafe was in no mood for his twin brother, Bel, and his two shifter lovers. He had his mate in his arms, seconds away from the most delicious bite.
“Yes, Bel, this is role-playing. Or, more appropriately, this is foreplay that you’ve interrupted. I would have thought one of those mutts beside you would have taught you that lesson,” Rafe snarled.
Bel’s nose wrinkled, and his upper lip curled so that the nearby lamplight glinted off a fang. “Please don’t talk about sex and my mates. That’s just…ew. Besides, we have no need for role-playing. They are everything that I could ever desire.”
Rafe opened his mouth to deliver a crushing diatribe on all the glories of sexual exploration with your mate when Philippe’s hand covered his lips. “I’m assuming Marcus sent you to remind us we’re expected at his place,” Philippe said with a hint of laughter dancing among his words.