Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
“And I know the idea of drinking blood isn’t exactly appetizing to you. So, I understand if you don’t—”
“I do.”
He leaned back, his eyes turning bright. “Is it because you want to or because I’m asking.”
“How often have I done things you’ve wanted, but I haven’t?”
He laughed. “Good point.” The humor faded from his eyes, replaced by a devouring sort of intensity. “If you’re sure. One hundred percent sure?”
“I am.”
“Thank fuck.” He started to reach for me but drew up short. “We need to take off that dress. Netta will have my ass if I return it to her wrinkled.” His gaze lifted to mine. “And I have a feeling it’s going to get very wrinkled.”
So did I.
Pulse thrumming, I stood and reached for one strap. Casteel followed, taking hold of the other. “Are there buttons?”
I shook my head.
“Thank the gods again,” he murmured as he dragged the strap free of my arm. “Because I would likely just give up and tear the thing.”
“You usually have better patience than that.” The dress gathered at my hips.
“Sometimes.” Eyeing the slip, he helped me step out of the gown. “But not when it comes to you.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I said as he started to toss the gown. I stopped him. “I’ll take that.”
His lips pursed as I laid the gown on the chaise. He waited for me at the corner of the bed. “I really have a thing for you and little ridiculous straps.” He reached out, placing his hands on my ribs. He pulled the material taut against me. “And your breasts, but they are not ridiculous or little. Regardless, I have a thing for them, too.”
“Thank you?” I said as he walked around me, sliding his hand across my stomach. He laughed, and the sound was part relief and part need. I didn’t need my abilities to know that. I started to reach for the clasp on the necklace.
“Leave it.” He glanced down. “And the dagger.”
My brows raised. “Seriously?”
“When will you realize I speak the truth?” The tilt of his lips was wicked. “It turns me on when you’re armed with something sharp.”
“There’s something so entirely wrong with you.”
He came around to my front. “But you like what’s wrong with me.”
“There is something wrong with me, too.” I looked up at him. “Because I do.”
“I know.” He touched my cheek. “I’ve always known you like that I enjoy when you make me bleed.”
Casteel kissed me and it felt like the first time our lips had ever touched. In a way, it was a first kiss, and Casteel and I had more than one first. With each truth, each change, it was like starting all over again but with all the experience and memories. And kissing Casteel was like daring to kiss the sun. I placed my hands against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt and this—all of this—was another first, because I kissed without once worrying if I should, without wondering if I would regret it. I kissed with abandon, and there was a freedom in that I had never known before.
He pulled me against him, one arm around my waist as his mouth trailed over the curve of my jaw and then down my throat. I tensed with wicked anticipation.
“There are other places, you know? Where I can drink from you.”
“Like where?”
“Places that are far more sensitive than the neck.” He dragged his hand down my shoulder, cupping my breast through the slip. His thumb found the aching peak. “Like here for example. Would you like that? Don’t answer yet. There are other places even more sensitive. More interesting.” He moved again, over the curve of my hip and lower still. He gathered up the silk. “Lift your arms.”
I stretched my arms above my head, shivering as his clothing brushed my newly bared skin.
The slip landed on the floor, and then his hand was at my hip again. My thigh. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips at my neck.
His fingers trailed along my thigh, the ring around his finger cool against my skin. “There’s a vein there, right along your leg, with all these little veins branching off. I’m thinking you’d really like that.”
I shuddered. “Will you do that now?”
“I would, except I’m feeling incredibly archaic right now, and I want the world to see my fresh mark on your throat,” he said. “And if the whole world saw that mark between your pretty thighs, I’d have to then kill the whole world.”
“That’s excessive.”
“I feel excessive, Princess. There’s another place, one that won’t supply that much blood, but I think it will be your favorite.” His hand cupped me then, between the legs, and his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves, driving me to the tips of my toes. “Right there. I could taste you and feed from you at the same time.”