A Cage of Kingdoms (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #6) Read Online K.F. Breene

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dragons, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Deliciously Dark Fairytales Series by K.F. Breene
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Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
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I bucked against him a little too hard, sending pain flaring again. He let go of my hair and curved his arm around my chest, holding me in place as he pumped in shallow movements. His finger worked my clit. His teeth scraped along my shoulder.

“Please, Weston,” I begged, rolling my body.

His teeth lingered, and I felt his power building. Felt his need rising. My wolf was right near the surface, desperate for this, wanting their forever mark. His wolf snarled, though, pulling back at the man. Refusing to commit. I wondered why the sudden change in the wolf.

“Fuck,” Weston growled, and his mouth found my neck instead as his fingers pinched a nipple.

An orgasm exploded through me. His pleasure tumbled through the bond a moment later as he shook with his own release. Back and forth the pleasure went, chased by power, by a deep feeling that welled up so big it consumed me.

I couldn’t stop the tears, but fuck it, this was heaven. I knew he didn’t mind.

I snuggled back against him, feeling fatigue come over me. “Can we go to bed and do this until we pass out?”

His answer was to lift me and move locations. Once we’d gotten under the covers, the process a lesson in teamwork, he curled around me just the way I liked. With his lips against my ear, he whispered, “I love you,” one last time, and then we slowly fucked our way to sleep.

Chapter 27

Aurelia

In the week that followed, I attempted to keep my regular hours—the ones I used to employ in the village. It soon became apparent, however, that those hours made everyone nervous. On day three the queen herself tried to chase me out of the work shed, telling me I was going to burn myself out.

I’d stared at her stupidly for a moment. “I’ve been keeping these hours for . . . over ten years. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m used to this.”

The look she’d given me—the look everyone had given me—was full of sorrow and compassion—and pity. That part made me highly uncomfortable. Just to get away from it, I’d excused myself as though I were taking their worry to heart. Instead, under the guise of resting, I’d gone back to my journals, attempting to pinpoint where the other production village might’ve been. That, or I hit the books in the extensive library, working on several things to keep my mind fresh on any given product or counter-product.

When it was time to wind down, I decided to look into a painting class and learn about mixing colors. The teacher, Liron, was a donkey’s twat, a colorful term Hadriel had taught me, but he did know his stuff. Most days, at some point or another, one or more of my reading crew would join me in the work shed, out of the way of the others, and read while I worked. After that, I lost myself in cooking, ate with Weston, wrote in my journal, then usually made love to Weston and went to bed.

I’d never felt so fulfilled. Previously, I’d done all of this alone or with a coworker who distrusted and disliked me. Being around people I enjoyed and respected—having real friends—was a sort of happiness so big I didn’t know it could fit inside me. My heart was continually bursting, making me tear up randomly, touching a shoulder in thanks or hooking an arm through Hadriel’s or Vemar’s as we walked. I loved it.

I also loved my new coworkers. The women hadn’t thawed so much as I’d just learned how they worked. They were like a dance, moving around and within the work shed, humming often and chatting seldom, content to work the plants and make their brews. They’d spend time in the garden every day, manhandling their Everlass and checking on everything else. They were all great with greenery, though none so diligent and thorough as the queen. They even nursed my Moonfire Lily into blooming health, the slow throb of color illuminating the dragon weed every night amidst the speckles of light from the emberflies.

Then there was Vemar, the new guardian of my asshole. I had no idea what that meant, only that it was a kinda-sorta, half-literal inside joke with him and Hadriel. Vemar was the best coworker I could ask for. He flowed with me like a synchronized dance. I barely had to ask for things; I could just look up for what I needed and he’d fill my hand with it. When he needed something, I reciprocated. He worked our contraptions right alongside me, learning the craft in no time, completely unafraid and constantly inquisitive, getting the handle of the heat and quickly understanding my instruction. He spoke when it felt right and was content to work in silence when the mood called for it, his finger on the pulse of those around him. In just that week, I knew I’d be lost without him.



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