Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Once more, she felt a tongue swipe between her folds. The sensation was so much more intense than a physical touch, as if she was ten times more sensitive than usual. And oh God, it was amazing.
Wynter slapped her free hand on the mattress to support herself as his tongue did wicked, wicked things over and over and over. Honestly, she was so swept away by sensation she could have forgotten he was there if the bastard didn’t begin taunting her with words between licks.
“I could do this anytime, anywhere,” he rumbled. “Whether we were alone or surrounded by people.”
She gasped as he lashed a particular spot—it was like a wet flick to her clit. He licked at the center of the mark over the little triangle, and she almost came off the fucking bed. It was like he’d stabbed his tongue deep inside her—something he did again and again, until she was so desperate to come she’d have done anything he asked. Anything. So it was terribly fortunate that the only thing he told her to do was come. Oh, she could do that.
Her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her, heating her skin and causing her inner muscles to ripple around mere air. Fuck, she needed to be filled. Badly.
Cain released her hand and slipped his finger deep into her pussy. “Soaking wet.” He withdrew the digit and sucked it clean. “Lie back. Move your hair away from your face, I want nothing obstructing my view. That’s it.”
Staying on his knees, he gripped her thighs, raised her hips and tilted them to line up his cock with her entrance. “Come when you want.” He thrust hard, forcing his way deep, stretching her without mercy.
She’d barely had a moment to register the sting when a warm, electric wave of pleasure washed over her soul, wrenching at her body so her back bowed almost violently. It was different this time. Held an edge. It was like when her scalp prickled from having her hair pulled, or like the burn from a hand coming down sharply on her ass—the pain complemented the pleasure and gave it a dark, addictive feel. The sensation came again, so fucking intense, and she cried out.
“Shh, you can take it.” He pulled back his hips and then slammed his cock home just as he sent another wave of pleasure/pain sweeping over her soul. “That’s it, hurt for me.”
Cain began powering into her hard and deep, just as he’d been aching to do since he’d watched her in that gauntlet. There was something very feral about Wynter Dellavale when she fought, and that appealed to him on a fiercely sexual level that was entirely primitive. Just the same, the predatory elegance with which she’d moved had intensified his monster’s need to own her.
Driven by a similar insanely intense need to possess her, Cain took her with thrusts of his cock and strokes to her soul. He wanted her fucking addicted to him. To this. Wanted her to need him like she’d never needed anyone else. Wanted her to come back to him again and again, unable to help herself.
So he fucked and wrecked and dominated her—overwhelming her body and soul. He wanted her mind as well, greedy for every part of her. She was becoming an obsession and he knew it, but fuck if he could do anything about it.
She came hard, fracturing right before his eyes, so beautiful she gripped his gut. Not done with her yet, he kept going; kept brushing her soul with pleasure/pain while brutally hammering into her pussy. And then he sensed another orgasm building fast.
He growled. “That’s it, break for me.”
She screamed, her spine snapping straight, her inner muscles clenching his cock, her eyes wet with tears.
Cain groaned, slamming harder and faster. “Love it when you cry.” He shoved deep and came so hard his vision went black for a second.
She was trembling beneath him, her eyes shut, her lips parted. He draped himself over her and brushed away a tear with his thumb. She didn’t move. Didn’t respond when he feathered soft kisses down the side of her face that he often found his gaze drifting to. And he quickly realized she’d passed out.
Cain felt his mouth curve. She’d be annoyed about that tomorrow, but he had no intention of waking her. Instead, he rolled onto his side and drew her close, surprised when he sensed that his creature planned to stay awake and watch over her.
Azazel leaned back against the wall of the solar room the next morning as he said, “Her story checks out. My source confirmed what she told us about her past, her mother, and why both were exiled.”
Cain turned away from the window overlooking his garden. “You thought she was lying?”
“I expect everyone to lie to me, because I lie to everyone else. Our kind live a lie.” Azazel frowned, pensive. “Plus, she has this unfamiliar vibe about her. I don’t think she’s all witch. Maybe she’s a hybrid of some kind. She never mentioned her father. It could be that he isn’t a witch. My source isn’t sure who he is, only that he never came to Aeon with her old coven.”