Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Licking lips I’ve already kissed.
Again, like so many other times before, I’m struck by the sheer power of his beauty.
Unearthly and perfect in every way, my brain immediately thinks angel.
An angel about to defile me.
The candle flickers then dims without warning.
I blink and the image before me changes.
Hair messy, a few strands fall into his eyes, giving him a dark, menacing look. Especially as he stares down at me, panting like he’s not sure if he wants to kiss me again or destroy me.
All thoughts of angels and heavenly beings flee my head.
He’s not an angel… he’s a demon.
A demon hellbent on devouring me.
His green, fiery gaze widens a fraction as if he can read my thoughts just before it bores into my eyes with an intensity that shoves me closer to that place between dream and reality.
“Yes, I’m going to devour you,” Asher says, his voice striking a chord behind my ribs and thrumming through every vein. “But don’t worry.”
Hand lashing out, moving faster than my eyes can follow, he shreds my shirt to pieces, exposing my bra. “You’re going to love every second of it.”
Held by his gaze, on the edge of enthrallment, I feel no fear. No apprehension. Only anticipation. Taking him at his every word.
Lashing out again, he shreds my bra, freeing my breasts.
Glancing down, Asher’s eyes drink in the sight of my nakedness. Burning in the candlelight with hunger and passion.
“Not here… interesting…” he murmurs quietly to himself.
Freed from the spell of his gaze, reality slams back in, with every little fear and worry rearing their ugly heads.
I become painfully aware of being exposed. Of my breasts being out. Heavy. They’re so damn heavy as I struggle to get enough oxygen.
Kissed by the cool air, my nipples tighten into hard little points.
I’ve never been naked in front of another person like this. I’ve only been naked during my sacraments, and that was out of necessity. There was no lust or desire involved.
Only pain. Shame-filled pain and humiliation.
Breath quickening, dangerously close to hyperventilating, I finally remember I can move my arms and cross them over my chest.
His reaction is immediate and terrifying.
Making a vicious sound, he grabs my arms and rips them apart
Pinning my wrists down, he leans toward me, his face lowering to my face. “Don’t hide yourself from me!”
I flinch and try to shrink away from his anger.
His snarl disappears and his grip on my wrists loosens.
“Fuck,” he curses and closes his eyes.
Holding himself above me, his body full of tension.
Every muscle quivers with restraint.
His head drops, his forehead pressing against my forehead.
Chest pressing against my naked breasts, I can feel him panting with me. I can feel his silky skin pressed against my skin.
The sensation is entirely too sinful, too decadent.
“No more hiding from me, Chloe,” he rasps, eyes still closed. “No more fucking hiding. I can’t take it.”
His pain calls to my pain, mixing with it. Increasing it a hundred-fold. Amplifying the throbbing ache in the center of my chest. The ache of being hollow, empty, and incomplete.
And I know the only thing that will heal us both is completion.
He is completion.
But I’m still terrified. What comes next? What comes when he fills me up?
Will there be any of me left?
Releasing my right wrist, he grabs me by the back of the head and tangles his fingers in my hair. Just holding me for several long heartbeats.
As if he’s trying to both savor and survive the moment.
When he finally pulls away, he places a lingering kiss against my brow.
Lips drifting down, he brushes them down the bridge of my nose then presses them against my lips.
It’s the sweetest kiss, and I feel the tension flowing out of me and melting away.
Warmth begins to fill me, soft and affectionate.
An echo of his emotions blending with my emotions.
Soothing me with their tenderness.
Sighing, I kiss him back, falling into his gentle seduction.
But it’s a trap.
The second my body completely relaxes beneath him, my free hand grabbing at him to pull him closer, he tears his lips from mine and latches onto my neck.
Pure, overwhelming desire rolls through me, filling me with liquid heat.
There’s no pain. No sense of his fangs sinking into me. No ripping or tearing.
My flesh is intact.
He simply suckles on me, pulling hard on my skin. On a spot that’s incredibly sensitive.
A spot that makes my knees and every bone in my body go weak.
Trying to arch away from him, my hand that was grabbing at him pushes on his shoulder.
Ignoring my attempts to escape, his mouth pulls harder and his fingers free themselves from my hair.
Grabbing my breast, he squeezes me in his big palm. Then his fingers pinch my nipple, plucking at it.
“Oh God,” I groan and give him another shove.
Chuckling, he scrapes his fangs against my neck, the points scratching across my skin. “God will not save you from me, Chloe.”