Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
A broken laugh rips from my mouth. “If you’re telling the truth about this pendant, then why would I ever take it off? I could spend the next seven years fucking you and then go home without ever going through with having that baby you want so badly.”
“Yes. You could.”
I wait, but he simply holds my gaze. There’s a challenge there, maybe, but I’m too dazed to think it through. “How can I trust that it works?”
“If you’d like it verified, you can ask Ramanu. They have no reason to lie to you.”
I almost protest that of course they do, because my having a baby is part of the bargain.
But it’s not.
The only thing the contract says it that Sol has the opportunity to seduce me, to attempt to accomplish his aim, but nowhere in either of them did it say I was required to get pregnant or give birth. Only that if I did, the child would remain in this realm.
Sol is telling the truth. I’m certain of it, even if I barely trust myself enough to believe him. I’m going to be here for seven years. Why wouldn’t he think he has plenty of time to convince me to do what he wants?
The question remains: What do I want?
“Okay,” I say slowly. “I believe you.”
“Keep it around your neck. As long as the cord remains intact, it will continue to work.”
I obediently slip it around my neck. The cord is long enough that the pendant hangs between my breasts. “Is there anything special that I need to do except bleed on it?”
“No.”
I lift my hand, suddenly feeling bold and a little wild. “Will you lend me a tooth?”
He goes perfectly still, and my heart trills in response. The urge to run from this obvious predator is almost overwhelming, but somehow my fight-or-flight responses are all tangled up with something rushed and heated. I will not give him what he wants, but maybe we can settle for a compromise. He wants me. He’s not being subtle about it.
And me? I want him, too.
I never considered myself a reckless person, but I don’t know what other word can describe me as Sol opens his mouth. His teeth are long, nearly half the length of my fingers and wickedly sharp. His tongue is forked. I have the strangest desire to stroke it, but I settle for reaching into his mouth an pressing the pad of my thumb to one of his teeth. Even knowing it’s coming, I can’t help sucking in a breath as the prick of pain.
I waste no time withdrawing and pressing my thumb to the pendant. It flares a bright green, and I feel an answering tug in my lower stomach. For all I know, I just made myself doubly fertile…but I don’t think so.
It still takes far more courage—or recklessness—to say, “What if we tried it? Sex, I mean.”
Sol’s crest flares, the only move he makes. “Are you saying that because you want sex, or because you’re running from something in your head?”
“Does it matter?”
“It should.” He pushes slowly to his feet and holds out a hand. “But I want you, Briar. I won’t pretend I don’t.”
I slide my hand into his and let out a little yip when he pulls me off the chair and into his arms. He’s so warm that I whimper a little. Sol sets me on the table and clasps the back of my head with one massive hand. I have the almost-hysterical thought that he could crush my skull like a melon, but he holds me gently, if firmly. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yes.”
Bless him, but he takes me at my word. “I’ll buy you another dress.”
I barely have time to process the words when he moves. He rips my dress open with a single swipe of his claws. The fabric parts and flutters down on either side of my body, baring me completely. I didn’t even have time to tense.
Sol stares down at me for a long moment and then meets my gaze. “If it’s too much, say stop.”
It’s not quite a reassurance that my saying stop will be enough to actually stop him, but I can barely think past the hot grip on the back of my head and the warm breeze that caresses my newly bared skin. “Okay,” I manage.
His forked tongue flicks out and caresses my bottom lip. I open for him. It doesn’t even occur to me not to. His tongue strokes mine. It’s not quite a kiss in the traditional sense of the word, but our jaws are hardly compatible for that kind of thing. Before I can decide it’s awkward, he tilts me back and licks his way down my throat in sensual little flicks that make me shiver.
Sol pauses at my breasts and nuzzles me, like a cat scent-marking their owner. Then his tongue is at my nipples, remarkably agile as he tugs and toys with me. Each pull sends an answering one lower in my body.