Muerte (Stygian Isles #1) Read Online Natalie Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Stygian Isles Series by Natalie Bennett
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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I knew come morning there would be no pleasure in this, but there was a curious duality to it, as if something deeper was being unlocked. When he was finally done, he set the blade aside and ran his fingers across his bloody handiwork. I sucked in a breath and flinched at the sensation.

With a gentler touch, he lifted my legs and hooked them over his shoulders. My heart raced in anticipation as I watched him descend, his actions deliberate and measured.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he murmured lowly, his face now between my thighs.

The first swipe of his tongue was unlike anything I had experienced before. The blood, a reminder of the name he’d just carved into my skin, continued to trickle from the letters, now pooling onto his shoulder and down his back.

He didn’t seem to care, and I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything other than his mouth. He was feasting on me as if he were a man starved. I arched against him, my fingers finding purchase in his thick, silky hair as he thrust his tongue inside me. He groaned appreciatively, the sound intermingling with my wanton moans.

The room spun with a heady mix of sensations as he skillfully brought me to the precipice and then eased off to start all over again.

My body trembled with a potent mixture of anticipation and overwhelming desire as pleasure coiled within me.

Every nerve ending seemed to sing, drowning out the world around us. As I teetered on the edge, he closed his mouth around my clit and begin to tease it with the tip of his tongue. I cried out as a tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over me. My breath caught in my throat as my body bowed, the sensation overwhelming.

Before I had a second to process what was happening, the world shifted once again. He raised himself up and spread me wider, hooking my legs over his forearms. With one harsh thrust, he was inside me, filling me with an intensity that had me digging my nails into the closest part of him I could reach.

My body welcomed him with an aching, almost desperate hunger, but it couldn’t handle him.

He was so deep inside me that I swore I was going to be spit in two. My hand automatically flew to his chest when he began to move. It was too much. I felt every thick, solid inch of him.

“I can’t,” I cried out weakly, trying to push him back. “Please.”

“You don’t have a choice.” He lowered one of my legs and lifted the other—the one bleeding his name—fucking me harder and forcing my body to slide across the rug.

“Alex,” I pleaded as he relentlessly followed, never slowing.

“Fuck,” he cursed, going impossibly deeper. “You’re taking it so good,” he soughed, turning his head to place a kiss on my bloodied thigh, bloodying his lips in return. When he finally lowered my leg and settled between my thighs, wrapping one hand around my throat, I felt boneless.

He continued fucking me with a savage intensity.

Each thrust seemed to deepen the connection between us, erasing the boundaries that separated him from me. The air was heavy with the sounds coming from our mouths—my breathless moans and whimpers, his groans, and throaty growls of pleasure—and where our bodies met as skin met skin.

As I surrendered to him, I was left teetering on the edge once again. My body shuddered as heat coursed through every fiber of my being. I only realized he’d held off on coming until I did when his movements slowed, and his cock pulsed inside me.

He didn’t immediately pull away. His body remained above mine, his eyes studying my flushed face and the way my chest rose and fell as I tried to catch my breath.

Staring up at him, I found myself engulfed in emotions.

“Thesaurus es,” he murmured, gently cradling my face, trailing kisses along my skin until he turned my head to capture my lips. I tasted the blood now, a metallic tang that mingled with the taste of him. In that moment, I was torn between the magnetic pull of the present and the heavy realization of the potential repercussions that might follow.

When he pulled away from me, I rolled my lips together, staring up at him. He reached down and carefully stood me up. I bit back a wince as the effects of what we’d just done began to set in.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said quietly.

“Come.” Still holding my hand, he walked me into the bathroom and gently turned my body in the direction of the door I had guessed housed the toilet earlier, thankfully not asking or needing an explanation.

Once I was standing on my own, he left to start the shower. I quickly attended to my needs, feeling a mild discomfort and burn from how sore and tender I was. I didn’t see him when I was done, so I walked to the shower and wordlessly stepped into it. The hot water provided an instant relief and unpleasant sting.



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