Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Your pleasure is everything, he agrees, his mental voice dark and rich in my head. And he thrusts hard to punctuate his words.
I shatter. My release quakes through me, hard enough for my legs to jerk, and then I'm pressing my heels into his ass with everything I have, riding wave after wave of sheer bliss. Through our joined minds, I can feel his excitement at the intensity of my release, and he fucks me harder and harder, claiming me as his own.
Then he comes, too, and I can feel each pulse of his release inside me. I lock my legs around him, quaking with my release, as if I can somehow hold him to me and never let him go. Azar leans forward, pressing his weight over me, and I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him tight.
Now we really belong to each other. I hold him close and feel the dark fire of his thoughts burning through mine.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
AZAR
The feel of Melina's body wrapped around mine…it moves me beyond words. Her cunt is a warm, wet sheath around my cock, her legs and arms holding me against her. I am enveloped in her scent, her softness, her love—because her thoughts lazily drift through mine. She feels good. Content. She's pleased that I've returned to myself. She's aching inside, but it's a good ache, a stretched feeling she'll probably carry all day. She's got a strand of hair caught in the windshield wipers behind her—
Oh.
I sit up, blinking down at her. I let Melina's leisurely train of thoughts sweep me away, but I should have been taking care of her. I gaze down at her, at her beautiful body. She's still too thin, a sign that she's yet recovering from her sickness. I scent the air, and I realize she's alone. Prodding into her mind, I confirm that yes, she came out here alone, on a bicycle, determined to lure me back to her.
Melina frowns up at me. "Are you digging around in my head?"
"Yes," I admit bluntly, and help her off the hood of the car. Dirt is on her back, and we've left a smeared pattern in the dust. "I've gotten you dirty."
"Yes you have," she says confidently, and her thoughts are full of the seed that even now wets the insides of her thighs.
I groan, fascinated at being inside her mind on this. At feeling her pleasure and how wonderfully filthy she finds the sensation. "Melina."
"Why were you poking around in my head?" she asks, twisting her shoulders and brushing some of the dirt from her skin. I obediently move to her side and do the same, getting the remnants of her dress from the ground and using it to wipe away the worst of the debris.
"I wanted to see if you were here alone—"
"I am," she replies confidently. "You could have asked."
"—and now I'm angry you're here alone," I continue, irritated. "I don't like that you risked your life. You could have been attacked!"
"By dragons?" She shakes her head. "Not with me wearing your bite. And there aren't any nomads in the area. I'm pretty sure anyone this close to Fort Dallas would just come in to Fort Dallas directly instead of lurking on the fringes. Or haven't you noticed how many people we've been getting lately? You've made it safer for people to live in the fort instead of outside it."
I can tell just by the clarity of her thoughts that she felt there was zero danger, and it eases some of my distress. Melina knows how to take care of herself. She wouldn't pretend there was no danger if there truly was. She'd acknowledge it. "Very well, then."
She turns around and studies me, then moves and pulls me in for a kiss. "I'm glad you're back to you. What happened?"
Are we back to casually kissing each other once more? I'm guarded but hopeful. It feels like I have my mate back, and I realize how much I've wanted that. How much I've needed her at my side. How I've just been going through the motions the past few months without her. And here she is, healthy and whole. I grab her and impulsively haul her against me, squeezing her tight.
"I'm all right," she whispers, rubbing a hand over my back. "It's okay."
"You almost died," I grit out.
"Is that why you went feral?" Her hand smooths down my spine, soothing. "Because you thought you were losing me?"
It was partially that, I realize. That, and the thought of another male having to give her blood. That she might smell like he's claimed her instead of me. That, and all the other stresses weighing upon me. I open my mind and share all the worries I'd had, the culmination of several days of frustration in which nothing worked, the fear that I'd lose her forever.