Bite Marks (The Lycans #5) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Lycans Series by Jenika Snow
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 99285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
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I tried to control my breathing, to stay still and not let his words affect me. I knew I failed.

“It makes me fucking hard that I’ll have a fight on my hands where my mate is concerned.”

My heart pounded, and I opened my eyes then, unable to feign sleep anymore. I stared at the ceiling, blinking a few times to clear my vision. It took a second, everything around me blurry before it came into focus.

There were thick beams running parallel along the ceiling. The wood was dark, and although I wasn’t looking at anything else, I knew this room was lavish, dripping with wealth.

And that was confirmed when I let my gaze sweep from left to right and took in the actual room. It was large, bigger than one room normally was. I looked at the bed, my body seeming dwarfed in it, my bare feet only reaching to the middle of the mattress. Large wooden posts were at the four corners, the poles arching up and engraved with hand-carved scrollwork. Beautiful. Time-consuming.

The room itself looked modern, with a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall across from the bed, a sleek entertainment center situated under the device. There was a black leather couch in front of the fireplace, and a thick-looking wooden door catty-corner from that. It was slightly open, and I could make out part of a toilet and sink.

Everything was modern, yet I had a feeling wherever I was—this home—was ancient and had history out the ass.

There was a window to my left, heavy-looking drapes covering the glass completely so I could only see a sliver of the outside. It was dark, but I didn't know if it was night or maybe the glass was covered because of…

I stopped that thought as soon as it ran through my mind. No, I couldn’t allow those thoughts to be entertained.

He isn’t a vampire, for fuck’s sake.

It didn’t matter. That was the least of my worries right now.

The drapes fell all the way to the floor. The fabric looked expensive, lush and silky with a damask print inlaid in silver along the black fabric.

I licked my dry lips and looked down at my body. I was still in my sleep shorts and loose-fitting white T-shirt. I was braless, and my nipples poked lewdly against the paper-thin material. I curled my hand around the material that lay against my flat belly and tugged at it, pulling it away from my chest.

I ached all over, as if I’d been thrown against the wall repeatedly. I remembered everything that had happened up until I passed out. How I fell back on the ground, my head cracking against the floor. Scrambling to get away for the man who was intent on hurting me… and then later, when I saw him… the red-eyed man with the fangs and the fixation on me. The obsession.

I reached down and grabbed the duvet by my feet, pulling it up and covering myself to my chin before I kept looking around the room.

It was dark except for the firelight, which only made the atmosphere seem heavy and thick. The sound of the flames licking over the wood and crackling was the only thing I could hear aside from my racing heart.

I couldn’t see much with the yellow and orange hazy glow filling the massive room, the shadows more prominent than the light. Upon first glance, from what I could see, it appeared I was alone, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I felt him. I knew he was staring right at me.

And as if a magnet was attached to me and him, my gaze moved toward the far end of the room.

My pulse jumped as I stared at that darkened corner. I could see the outline of his huge body as he sat in a chair, as he dwarfed the small piece of furniture. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I knew… I knew he watched me with an intensity only a predator had for its prey.

For long seconds I didn’t move, didn’t breathe or speak. I didn’t even tear my focus away from where he sat. I watched the way he smoothed his fingers along his knee, so slowly, almost sensuously. I looked into his face and saw his focus was trained on my chest, and I swore his gaze felt like he was touching me—like he was moving those fingers along my breasts instead of his knee.

I started to sweat even though it wasn’t hot in the room. My blood was racing through my veins, heating me, creating this electric anticipation inside me.

He rose slowly, all stealthy and graceful movements despite his huge body, and walked toward me. I stiffened when I noticed the equally large dog trotting beside him, the damn thing looking like a lion.



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