Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Hanna
“The Knife”
I wake up in the softest silk sheets, my body sinking in a bed so welcoming it’s like my limbs have been encased in a marshmallow. My eyes flutter open briefly before closing again, the smell of a bonfire on the beach filling my nose. Woodsy, smoky, crisp ocean air. I inhale deeply, loving that smell and not knowing why. It’s like it triggers a memory, and in that memory is one emotion.
Desire.
My eyes fly open, focusing now. I see a huge window with a soft shaft of sunlight coming in. The sunlight is so beautiful and jarring that I’m fascinated by it, then I look past the windowpanes to see a gargoyle outside. A familiar looking one.
I don’t have gargoyles outside my room.
I blink and suddenly sit straight up. The black silk sheets fall away from me and I’m totally naked. I pull them to my chest, my nipples aching as the sheet rubs against them.
Oh my god.
I know where I am.
A low chuckle sounds from the corner of the large, dark, beautifully decorated room. I watch as Tuoni gets to his feet and walks over to me. He has that strut again, the walk of a great beast of prey. I’m the prey, he’s the beast.
“So much modesty,” Death says dryly, stopping at the foot of his four-poster bed. It’s bigger than King-sized. It would have to be, for a man of his stature. “After all we’ve been through.”
I swallow and the act alone triggers a flashback.
Me, naked and on my knees in a glittering lavender pool, surrounded by crystals. Him with his dick in my mouth. I’m not just giving him a blow job, I am giving him an experience and I’ve committed myself one hundred and ten percent to his pleasure.
Another image slams into my brain, my nails digging into the tight muscles of his ass as I hold him close, my lips wrapped around his balls, and holy fuck, what the hell happened to me?
“So you remember,” he says, running his hands over his jaw as he stares at me. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t. Thought I would have to tell you and you’d not believe me.”
I blink, more images sliding into my skull. The training session with Vipunen. How proud I felt. How hard I worked. The journey through darkness to the Crystal Caves. The utter beauty of the gems. The way I wanted to just let every emotion and thought go, be one with the center of the earth, with the energy of the land, and that was even before I drank the water.
“The water,” I say slowly, licking my lips. Another image slams into my head. Holy hell. “I drank the water. Lovia told me not to and I did anyway.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” he says, walking around the bed and sitting on the edge of it next to me. “The caves make even the Gods feel hedonistic. I can’t imagine the effect on a mortal.”
I have a hard time meeting his eyes. I feel like I can see my soul in them, and I don’t know if I like that. I look out the window, watching the shaft of sunlight as it starts to fade from sight, like a cloud is coming overhead. I frown. Does his mood change so quickly?
“Why do you look ashamed?” he asks in a low voice. Cautious. “It’s not like we haven’t had sex before.”
I give my head a shake and look back at him. “I’m not ashamed.”
“You feel violated?”
Not exactly.
Actually, the more I remember what we did, the more it doesn’t bother me. I’ve done drugs before. I know what it’s like to have sex on them. This was about a thousand times more potent than that and I was a thousand times more unrestrained.
No doubt I had the best sex of my life, and that says a lot considering who I’ve been screwing of late.
It’s that I worry about what I said to him. What I told him. To have crazy monkey sex in a crystal cave is one thing. I’m not ashamed of that in the slightest. But to let my words and feelings flow as openly as my legs were spread…that’s something else.
I try to flip through the memories on hand, and yet I can’t remember anything I said. It’s possible I didn’t say anything.
Possible, but not likely.
“You are my wife,” he says, and the softness of his voice surprises me.
“I know I am,” I say and I reach over to touch his hand for reassurance. I rarely reach for his hands. Not because I’m afraid of them, but because such a simple action speaks of an intimacy the two of us don’t share. Except when we’re naked, it seems.
He clears his throat, pulling his hand away from me. His attention goes to the window. Seems like a safe place to stare. It’s only now I notice part of the gargoyle perched outside is missing a horn.