Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
My face went between her thighs, tracing my tongue up her pussy through the thin material of her pants.
The sensation must have caught her off-guard because her body stiffened and then arched into the sensation as my tongue worked her clit with the barrier until her hands were pulling my hair, until her thighs were crushing my skull.
Then I pulled back just long enough to get her pants off her legs before diving back in, working her up and through a whimpering orgasm.
I could feel the Change fighting to break free then as she cried out my name on the tail-end of the climax.
Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed it back as I slipped on a condom, then slammed inside of her as I dragged her legs upward off the cushion, working her from a new angle.
Her arms went down under her, bracing some of her weight like she was worried I couldn’t hold her.
Fucking ridiculous.
It wasn’t long, though, until her hands were clutching the cushions, her thighs starting to tremble, as her pussy clenched my cock hard.
Mine, something inside of me growled as her pussy spasmed around me, catching me off-guard, taking me along with her.
And right then, yeah, there was no fucking fighting it.
My tongue forked. My fingertips elongated to talons in her flesh. My horns started to pierce out of my skin.
And as I buried deep on the end of my orgasm, the wings shot out of my back, wide, fierce, uncontrollable.
The problem was, this time, I wasn’t fucking her from behind.
And as soon as her eyes opened again, a shriek escaped her as she yanked suddenly away.
“What… what…” she gasped, rolling off the couch, landing hard on her knees, her hip knocking hard into the table.
A hiss escaped her at the pain, and I swear to fuck, one of my wings moved outward toward her, stroking over her skin.
Which only managed to make shit worse as she scrambled back, letting out another shriek before she gained her feet, turned, and ran.
“Fuck,” I hissed as the bathroom door slammed shut.
Fuck.
The extent to which I’d just fucked up seemed to be enough to force the Change back.
Too late.
Too fucking late.
She’d seen me.
And she was fucking freaking out about it.
Taking a slow, deep breath, I gathered my clothes, getting dressed, grabbing my notes, and making my way out.
What other choice did I have?
Best case, she would know how insane it sounded, and would say nothing.
Worst case, she would start spouting some shit that was going to mean Ace and the others would have a lot of fucking questions for me.
“Fuck,” I growled again as I got into the fresh air.
What was that strange piercing sensation in my chest?
And why was it getting sharper and more intense with each mile I put between us?
It brought me to my fucking knees on the doorstep of the house when I finally made it home.
That was where Minos found me.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, taking one look at me, and knowing.
It wasn’t until right that moment, though, that I finally understood.
It wasn’t normal, the way the Change overtook me with Charlotte.
No.
I’d fucking Claimed her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Charlotte
“Okay okay okay,” I said, shaking my hands at my sides as I paced the small area of my bathroom. “Ooookay. Alright. That was real.”
Right?
It had to be real.
I mean, I’d literally just had a brain scan. There hadn’t been any abnormalities. There were no growths pressing on parts of my brain that could just… imagine something like that.
He’d had wings, for God’s sake.
Wings.
Actual, wings.
But not quite, you know, bird-like.
Actually, not bird-like at all.
They were more, I don’t know, bat-like.
They were smooth to the point of freakishly soft.
I knew.
One had reached out to touch me when I’d hit my knee.
Okay. Maybe not a brain tumor, but possibly a psychotic break? My doctor told me all the time that a lack of proper sleep could do terrible things to the mind and body. But I thought he meant, like, a little anxiety or irritability, maybe some brain fogs or body aches, not freaking hallucinating about a man who was part… bat.
No.
Not bat.
It wasn’t just the wings.
It was the horns in his forehead, the talons that used to be his fingers.
And his tongue.
Oh, God. His tongue. It had felt weird. Not because he was skilled with it—though, he undeniably was—but because it wasn’t a normal tongue.
It was forked.
“Oh, Jesus. Okay. Alright,” I mumbled to myself as my hands rubbed the sides of my arms, trying to, I don’t know, ground myself.
I hadn’t imagined it, damn it.
I hadn’t.
I’d felt that tongue. On my tongue. On my nipple. On my clit. I’d felt it. You didn’t feel a hallucination.
But if it wasn’t a hallucination and some sort of mental break, what was the explanation?
He wasn’t human.
I mean, that was insane, but what other conclusion could I come to?