Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” I choked. “What?”
“Our cocks, na’laa,” he repeated. “Being in possession . . . of one will ensure that the owner . . . has a very . . . fruitful union.”
I opened my mouth, but I was at an utter loss for words for several seconds. “There is a part of me— a huge part of me— that regrets having this conversation.”
“There is more,” he said, and I thought his tone had lightened. Almost teasing. “I haven’t . . . even gotten to what our muscles— ”
“Great,” I muttered. “Is the chamber still moving?”
“No.”
Thank the gods. I reached for the straps on my nightgown.
“Our come,” he said, and I halted. “It’s known to be a . . . powerful aphrodisiac. Some mix it with herbs to rub . . . on themselves. Others drink— ”
“I get it,” I cut him off, having heard of potions that promised to increase the pleasure of those who used them. “Just to make it clear, I’m not after your blood or . . .”
“Or my come?” he finished.
“Definitely not that,” I snapped.
“What a shame.”
Shaking my head, I shimmied out of my nightgown. I refused to think about what I was doing as my bare skin pimpled in the damp heat. “I’m undressed, by the way.”
“That sounded oddly . . . like a warning,” he murmured. “As if knowing you’re naked would somehow prevent . . . me from looking.”
“It’s not a warning. It’s just to let you know so you can be polite and not look.”
“I know we . . . don’t know . . . one another, but you . . . should know, I’m not known . . . to be polite.”
“You can try.” I knelt beside him, and hesitated, the reality of what I was doing striking me.
I was undressing a Hyhborn— a Hyhborn lord.
Naomi would be so jealous.
Biting back a laugh, I reached for the flap on his pants and began to unhook the buttons. The back of my hands brushed along something I also refused to think of, causing him to suck in the deepest breath I’d heard him take that evening. “Hold still.”
“I am holding still, but . . . you’re on your knees, your fingers are near my dick, and you’re currently gloriously nude, so . . .”
Undoing the final button, I rolled my eyes. “You can’t even stand on your own two feet and you’re currently regrowing eyeballs. The last thing you need to be thinking about is me on my knees, your dick, or my nudity.”
“I’ve regrown my eyes, na’laa.”
My chin jerked up. The mess of hair shielded his face, but his head was turned in my direction. My gaze dropped to his hands— to his long fingers pressing into the rim of the sink.
“That’s how . . . I know you’re gloriously nude,” he continued.
Muscles curled low in my stomach, stealing the breath I took.
Good gods, that was the utter last thing I needed to be feeling now.
I quickly finished with the last button, maybe a little too roughly because his low groan burned the tips of my ears. I reached to pull his pants down—
“I got this,” he muttered.
I wasn’t sure he actually did, so when I rose, I stood behind him. I kept my gaze trained on his back as he unsteadily shucked off his pants, and I stepped aside once he finished and pushed off the sink. He took a step and began to sway again. I caught him, folding an arm around his waist. My hand flattened against his stomach, and I tensed.
There were no voices.
No images.
Would it be like with a caelestia, where I would have a few blissful minutes of being able to touch them? Though I still had to concentrate to avoid slipping into their minds even in those brief minutes.
“I was wrong.” The Lord leaned into me, his hip pressing into my stomach. “I don’t have it.”
I helped him toward the stall, unable to ignore the feel of him. His skin was incredibly warm.
“There’s a small ledge to step over,” I warned him.
He nodded, lifting his foot over the ledge as I followed, keeping my arm around him.
And keeping my eyes trained up, on the white tile of the stall.
The fall of water was a bit of a shock as we stepped under the stream, his body taking the brunt of it. I held on, closing my hand into a fist as he turned and braced a hand against the tile, facing the stream. I looked up and found his head tipped back, exposing his face and chest to the shower.
His groan was . . . it was downright sinful-sounding as water streamed over his face and through his hair. Heat returned, creeping up my throat as my stare followed the water coursing down the corded muscles of his back, cutting trails in the dried blood there and the, well, rather firm curve of his ass.