Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
He slides his tip in and I gasp for air as the muscles at my entrance protest in shock. Pain jettisons up my spine at the invasion, followed by a bolt of pleasure that shoots right to my core. I’d forgotten how large he is.
“Oh, fuck me,” I moan, my words blurred, wishing I could reach for my cock which aches to be touched, jerking beneath me like a wild horse.
“That’s what I’m doing, pretty boy,” Crane chides me. “I suppose I’m not trying hard enough.”
And at that he pushes all the way through and grunts, this guttural, animal sound that ties my center in knots. He’s so big and hot and slippery that I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but cry out, submitting to the mix of pain and pleasure as the fullness of him inside me seems to take up my entire world.
“God, you feel good,” his words a groan and a whisper and despite the fact that I don’t feel anything but him right now, I still revel in how good I’m making him feel. “So damn good. That’s what I’ve missed.”
And I’ve missed it too and I’m desperate, feral for more. I wish I could spread my legs wider but I can’t. Wish I could touch my cock but I can’t. Wish I could come from just his fucking alone but…
He shoves up to the hilt until I see stars and I feel the mass of his clothed body behind me, his chest pressed against my back. “The minute I think you’re going to come, I’m pulling out,” he grunts into my ear. “None of this is for you, Brom. You don’t deserve a fucking thing.”
I growl in anger, a threat of the darkness at my disposal.
“Call to your horseman,” he rasps, biting the back of my wounded shoulder. “Let him come out while I’m buried inside you. I have a lesson I’d like to teach him.”
I’m tempted. My hips are bruised from where he’s driving me into the desk, my cock is so painfully stiff, twitching with my rapid heartbeat, electric and throbbing with pure raw need. If I called to the horseman, perhaps he’d take me away from this pain. He might end up killing Crane in the process but at least I wouldn’t be driven insane from his brutal thrusts with no release.
But before I can even think of letting the devil take over I hear a sound from behind me, coming the other side of the room, and a light breathy inhale.
Kat.
Chapter 3
Kat
The room is too cold, too empty, too dark. The lone candle flickers and even though I keep lighting my fingertips on fire to give more light, it’s not enough and the use of this power drains me, making me feel more exhausted than I already am. There’s an uneasy feeling in this room, too, an energy that doesn’t belong here. Perhaps it’s because of what Crane has told me about the ghosts of his ex-wife and the teacher, but there’s a sense of not being alone, like there are things watching me through an invisible wall, waiting for the right moment to come crawling out.
Then there’s the sounds coming from the room next door, Crane’s room, where he’s keeping Brom. I know he told me to get some sleep, that he would take care of him, but from the floors and walls shaking, the cries and the thumps, it’s impossible to.
I want to know what’s happening.
Is Brom fighting off the horseman?
Has the horseman won and is he taking on Crane?
Is it Crane putting Brom in his place?
I know that Crane just saved Brom’s life with his healing magic but he’s also the one who shot him and the rage he felt toward Brom was just as palpable as the sweet longing I saw between them.
Though, sweet longing is a mild way of putting it.
The sight of my two lovers kissing and groping each other did something to me. It poked and prodded kindling inside me, stoking the flames, until what I felt for them was a mixture of jealousy, curiosity and unrepentant desire. I don’t even know what to do with these feelings, what they mean. Both men seem so worldly when compared to me and I feel so terribly naïve, young and sheltered.
Yet it thrilled me. Turned me on. Made me yearn for them not only individually but together.
But when I pushed my arousal aside, what I was left with the truth. Truth and pain and bruises on my neck and blood on my head.
Because Brom hurt me. He hunt me down to kill me. And even though it wasn’t him when he said he’d put me in the grave, I still see his face over me, his dark eyes turning black. I fear him now when I shouldn’t and I would do anything for that to go away.