Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Roux grabbed her waist and hauled her onto his lap. Of her own free will, she straddled him, settling against him more comfortably.
“I hate you,” she hissed. All the while she kneaded his muscles.
“Do you?” He rocked her against him. Once. Twice. A gentle caress. “Why aren’t you weakening?” Because she thought of him? Roux rocked her with force.
She gasped before flashing her fangs at him. “Why are you so annoying?”
He blinked. An evasion. So telling. “You aren’t. You’re thinking of me. You don’t want to, but you are.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Softness in her eyes, blades in her tone. “No matter what occurs in this realm, I’m going to kill you, as premeditated. That’s a promise.”
“Lyla,” he intoned, uttering the nickname without thought, “if you sit on me like this tomorrow, I might willingly go to my death.”
14
THE NEED
Bargain: Day 3½-4
Hours after the emotionally and sexually charged interlude ended, Blythe still wasn’t calm. She tossed and turned in bed, undeniable hunger gnawing at her, stronger and more intense by the second.
Hunger.
For Roux.
Every part of her ached for his touch. Even her wings reacted to him. Maybe it was the way his heart had raced beneath her palm. Or the heat of his skin searing hers. Or the sheer, unadulterated strength he’d presented. Perhaps the roughness of his voice when he’d called her Lyla.
Mmm. Shivers cascaded through her. Would he use the ridiculous nickname tomorrow? Why did she want him to? What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with him? He’d put on a clean shirt then returned to the chair near the hearth, where he’d remained. He’d kept his chin down and stared for hours—whoa! He was staring even now. Staring hard, his eyes wild.
New shivers plagued her. Firelight bathed him, setting him aglow. He wasn’t sharpening or polishing a weapon but white-knuckling the arms of the chair, as if holding himself back from a battle. Ferocity seemed to seethe beneath his skin.
A familiar electric charge crackled between them. Her lips parted. Breathing with any kind of finesse grew difficult.
Look away. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She’d been utterly snared.
Aching worse, she shifted atop the mattress. Had he woven an ancient lust spell over her? Nothing else explained such ferocious desire.
When morning sunlight filled the bedchamber, she jolted with excitement. A new day—a new touching. The final one. Why not get it over with? Yes. Get it over with so she could finally, blessedly ponder more important matters.
Blythe climbed from the bed. Roux watched her, the arms of the chair cracking. A woman on a mission, she glided across the bedroom.
“This is not the time to toy with me, she-beast.” The harshness of his voice nearly melted her bones.
“Now that’s a lie, Warden,” she purred, jumping onto his lap. “I’ve discovered always is the time to toy with you.”
He swooped his hands to her waist and jerked her closer. “If you truly wish to wreak havoc, double our contact today. That should do the trick.”
“Don’t think I won’t.” She ripped his shirt down the middle with a simple tug, settled her hands on his pecs—and petted him of her own free will. Silken heat poured over hard stones. “I might even go for a triple, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
He squeezed his lids shut for a moment, hiding his fiery irises. “Prepare yourself,” he grated, rocking her against him. “You’re about to witness the next erection of my famous pants tent.”
She chuckled, genuinely amused by him. “I’ll try not to be too scandalized.” Mmm. Oh, yes, there it was. Big. Very big. Enormous. Annnd she was already panting for it, for him, wanting to both leap off him and burrow closer. But she stayed put, letting him continue to rock her against him as she struggled not to moan. Or notice the soul-glow in his throat. Or the rushing vein ready to be tapped.
When two alevala jumped in his skin, changing places, she recalled what had happened to the shifter and hastened to avert her gaze. Although...perhaps Blythe would be spared from such a gruesome fate? After all, she carried some of his “tainted” memories. Seeing more shouldn’t liquify her face.
His grip constricted on her, strong enough to bruise. “Look at me, Lyla.”
Not the nickname! “No.” Not until she calmed her inhalations, doused all the fluttering in her stomach, and cooled down. How she burned.
Hoping to distract them both, she uttered the first question to pop inside her brain. “Are you a virgin, Roux?”
He stopped rocking her, and there was no stopping her next moan. “What does it matter?” he asked flatly.
“It doesn’t.” Right? She couldn’t think. “But are you? A simple yes or no will suffice.” As much as he reviled being touched...maybe. But wow. Just wow. “I mean, to my knowledge, you’ve never made use of your concubine.”