Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Awakened from a light doze, I blinked up at a man who had obviously bathed so I might not see what he had been up to. Sleepy smile on my lips, I looked him over.
He was unharmed.
Blond hair hanging in his eyes, he smirked back.
The little girls had put braids in my hair and pinned them as they would, making me look adorably ridiculous as I found all the ways I could to occupy their time. But my energy didn’t last, and I was forced to nap often, usually in a pile of kiddos who drooled on me and snored contentment not to have to sleep alone when the room shook.
I was still dressed in Cyderial’s shirt, a blanket serving as a makeshift skirt.
Kneeling to gently remove chubby arms and sleeping heads from my body, Cyderial dug me out of the pile, helping me to my feet.
It had been two days at least, my belly flat and the plug long gone. Yet heat had hardly begun to rear its head. Perhaps pregnancy had something to do with it.
I’d known he’d come before I might suffer, happy to feel him draw me into his arms no matter who saw.
Against his chest, I grumbled, “I’m very angry with you.”
Though I was anything but. What I had been was worried, grateful, appalled, disgusted, bewitched, now so very happy to have my hands on him so I might breathe his scent deep.
Ushering me away from the crowd, Cyderial warned, “I can’t stay for long, but I would like to make you something to eat.”
Out of earshot of the littles, I teased, “If it’s a human heart, I would prefer meat cubes.”
I loved it when I made him laugh.
Less than a month mated to him, and it had become my favorite sound.
My latest guardian, General Aegir, nodded his silver head but did not follow as we passed. I would be handed off to him soon enough, but not until I forced my mate to rest.
Cyderial looked exhausted.
First, a lengthy rut, then his brilliant plan to leave his newly pregnant mate alone to lay siege to the city. Maybe I was angry with him after all.
When the door closed and we were alone in a room I had not seen in days, I said, “You should have told me. I’m your mate, Cyderial. You should have told me what you intended to do. Not forced me to sleep.”
As he reached for my face so he might kiss me, I was pushed against the door and left to bear the weight of a male far more in need than I was.
My complaints were not answered.
He needed comfort and reassurance that I was well, that whatever his labors might be, they were worth the sacrifices he may never share. Letting him take all he would, I met his tongue with mine and moaned into his mouth.
The blanket around my waste was yanked free, his fly pulled down.
With no pretense, he lifted me, knowing I would be slippery and open to him, and sank me down on a straining cock. Once I was seated, his writhing organ teasing a particularly sensitive set of internal nerves, he let out a breath and found a moment of rest.
I had not thought one could do this standing and wondered which journal had given him the idea.
From the desperate look in his eyes, this had not been premeditated; it had been necessary.
Arms around his neck, I rolled my hips to encourage his efforts, smirking as I teased, “I thought heat only affected the females.”
My reward for such flirtation was an internal lashing of his wriggling dick. Which hit a place in me that left me gasping for another taste.
In a matter of minutes, and beautiful, arduous thrusts, I came with a yell.
It was not our most lengthy coupling, but it held a delicious urgency of two lovers happy to be reunited. By the time he set his knot as deep as it might go, anyone walking the halls could possess no ignorance about what took place on the other side of that door.
Carrying me to the bed as he began to fill me with lashings of cum, he laid me back so my stomach would have room to comfortably grow. There, he stared down at me as if he loved me more than anything God might offer.
No matter that neither of us had undressed completely. No matter how silly I might have let the children make me look.
I was beloved.
And he prepared to pump me full before he must go.
Ballooning, relieved to have his offering within me where it belonged, I unbuttoned my shirt so he might see my belly expand. Taking his hand, I placed it below the swell, where our baby slept, and whispered, “She’s right here.”
Green eyes glowing, he looked to where his touch rested. “You cannot understand how much this means to me.”