Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Chapter Eight
REMUS
I inhale the scent of her released desire from outside her room, every muscle straining to break down the door and burst into claim her.
My nose may not be as enhanced as my brothers’, but it’s still far superior to any mortals. I intended to simply walk past her room like a good boy. But who am I kidding? I’m not good and never have been.
And when the scent that hit the air when I whispered in her ear suddenly saturated the hallway outside of her door, there was no way not to stop. I lean my head against the wood of her door and inhale with all my might.
Only to hear her little squeal and realize, fuck, she’s pleasuring herself.
I’d riled her up, and she was finishing the job.
My hands clench into fists, and it takes discipline I rarely display to stay in place. I grind my teeth as Romulus threatens to burst awake and steal the moment from me. The bastard’s always taking advantage of any moment of surprise or stress.
I grab the flask from my hip and take a swig.
The salty, metallic liquid barely hits my throat before I feel the zing of clearer awareness, fully awake and back in full control of my own body again. I smile because I’ve never wanted to be present more as I lean against the door, inhaling and listening with my enhanced senses.
I stay there all the way until she gasps my name, and an extra flood of her scent hits me like a blast.
Then I stumble back from the door, overwhelmed with need. I turn and storm away silently.
But I won’t give myself the same relief. No, I want to linger at this knife’s edge of arousal until she screams my name while allowing me to pleasure her. Not just the thought of me.
I swing back around and reach for the doorknob, close, so close to shoving the door open and stomping inside.
But then I remember my previous experience with human females.
That is, my nonexistent experience.
It is not as if I haven’t wanted to lie with them before. But unlike many soldiers, I was always disgusted by the taking of females as plunders of war. And whores were so terrified by me, even if they’d take my coin, it immediately softened my cock.
The thought of a woman who gasps my name with pleasure instead of backing away from me in fear or disgust has me so hard. I did not shelter her from who I am, and still, she writhes at the thought of me on the other side of the door.
Silently, I press my palm to the cool wood, the rest of me all heat. She is a precious treasure, unlike any I have met.
But one must be careful with treasure, or it will break.
I must tread slowly.
As much as I hate it and as much as it is not in my nature, I must have patience.
So I turn away with a wide grin, looking forward to a long night of sleepless torture, imagining all the ways I plan to make her squeal once I break through her defenses. Because patience is a two-way street. Perhaps if I continue to tempt the fiery woman as I did tonight, I will not have to wait so long after all.
The next morning, I knock on her door, ready with beignets and coffee from Café Du Monde. She opens the door, looking so beautifully rumpled that I want all sorts of things that go against my new determination to slow things down. Don’t scare the beautiful woman.
I feel hope and something else I’m not accustomed to—fear. Fear that this could so easily be fucked up.
Yes, I am a god, but I’m beginning to see that this possibility of her wanting me back is as thin as a spider’s gossamer string in the dewy light of morning. Because I am also a monster, and she is delicate. So, so delicate. I do not have a history of being good with delicate things. But I will be now.
I hold up the bounty I have procured for her and delight in the way her eyes light up with surprise as she looks at the logo on the paper bag.
“Did you really get this from—?”
“A little flight to New Orleans is a good stretch in the morning.”
Her eyebrows arch high as she takes the coffee from my hand and inhales the steaming brew.
“I thought you might like to take a walk by the lake today. Explore the grounds a little.”
“I’m not even dressed yet.”
I take my time looking her up and down. She only has her T-shirt on, her thick, curvy thighs and calves exposed.
“Hey,” she says, moving behind the door. When I glance back at her face, her cheeks are flushed, but her eyes are still bright. I’m reminded of the long night I spent replaying every little noise she made and the scent of her pleasure that lingered tortuously in my nostrils.