Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Seven Forbidden Arts Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
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She moaned, arching her back and pushing out her perfect breasts. Air hissed through his teeth when she picked up her pace. The sexy sounds she uttered made him wilder. She panted, moving faster, her breasts bouncing every time their groins slammed together.

He saw it in her eyes. She was close. She’d kept those pretty dark pools open for him, and they turned hazy now. He pressed his thumb on her clit and anchored her with a hand on her waist while flexing his hips to chase his own release.

Her moan shattered the room. When she clenched around him, he broke. Hot needles of pleasure pierced his skin as his seed spurted inside her. He clutched her to him with the primal instinct of making her take every last drop. Only when he was dry did he loosen his death grip to let her limp body collapse onto his chest.

Gripping her hair in a ponytail, he moved it out of her face. “Hey.” He felt uncharacteristically gentle. A need to be tender softened his voice. “How are you doing?”

Her lips curled around a soft sigh.

He pulled his semi-hard cock free, inviting a moan when he rolled her onto her back. “Sore?”

She blinked at him, her eyes still out of focus.

He crawled down her body. She was glistening with their arousals. His seed was running down her legs. Damn him if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d seen.

He licked his finger before carefully slipping it inside. “Tell me if this burns or hurts.”

Her thighs quivered at the intrusion. “It doesn’t. What are you doing?”

“Checking that I haven’t torn you.”

Her cheeks flushed a little. “I can take it.”

He loved that color on her as much as he loved the huskiness of her voice that said she’d been thoroughly loved. What she’d done was as hot as fuck, but they should’ve waited. “Are you set on proving that?”

Her tone was all sass. “Haven’t I already?” She added with a saucy smile, “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you bragging about your size?”

He gripped her ass, squeezing like it belonged to him. “I should bend you over this bed and let you tell me how my size feels.”

She widened her eyes, mocking him. “Want to do it that position?”

“Maybe. And then I’ll fuck you on my lap, and in every position imaginable.”

She closed her eyes, throwing an arm over her forehead, and said in a dry tone, “I can hardly wait.”

After planting a soft kiss between her legs, he moved back up, switched positions, and draped her over his chest. “Sleep.”

Intertwining her fingers, she rested her chin on her hands. “I should clean up.”

“I like knowing my cum is running down your legs.”

She blushed scarlet red.

He gripped her chin, brushing a thumb over her lips. “It reminds me who you belong to.”

“You,” she said, her tease gone and her demeanor bitter again, before resting her cheek on his chest.

He stilled. Bitter or not, that little word was the most perfect thing he’d heard in just about ever. It was a damn sad pity she couldn’t mean it. It sliced a little too deep.

Chapter 35

Sometime in the middle of the night, Clelia woke up thirsty. As always, the minute she moved, Joss sat up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m going to get some water.”

He uncapped the bottle on his nightstand and handed it to her, kissing her shoulder as she took a sip. He let her finish half of it before he put the water aside, stood, and lifted her in his arms.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To run us a bath.”

“Now?”

He looked at the juncture of her thighs. “You won’t sleep well if you feel sticky, and I’m not cruel enough to deprive you of your sleep all night.”

The mention of that again made blood rush to her neck. She wasn’t shy about what they’d done, only about how he saw it, like a mark of possession.

He chuckled and kissed her. “Get used to it. I like the evidence of our fucking between your legs.”

Instead of angering her, the crude words heated her stomach.

He lowered her onto the bench and opened the tap.

Watching his back, she said carefully, “We haven’t used a condom.”

He looked at her from over his shoulder, his face pulled into an expression of surprise. “No, we haven’t.”

Surprise that she’d brought it up or that, consumed with heat, they’d forgotten something so fundamental? She brushed her foot over the bath rug, avoiding his intense gaze. “My periods aren’t regular.”

He turned away from her to pour bath salt under the running water. A smell of lavender infused the room. “Will it bother you if you fall pregnant?”

He said it like the words carried no weight. Taken aback, she stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders and the tapered masculine waist. After the way his father had made him suffer, she’d assumed Joss would be skeptical about children.



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