Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Yet then he drew back. “There’s still danger.” His voice had grown rumbly. His scent was embers.
Dazed with lust, she stared at his lips. “Danger? Oh. Well, you’ve convinced me we can handle it. Let’s release a little steam. We’ll be able to concentrate on the mission better.” She grabbed him once more. Against his mouth, she said, “I have to experience you. Just once.”
He drew back his head again. “Once?”
“You don’t have to worry about my summoning you. I’m stronger than that.” She was. She was.
“Listen, I need to tell you something.”
“No, you don’t.” How could a player’s confessions make her more likely to sleep with him? I’m 100 percent a sure thing. “I need you to do things with your mouth, and I don’t mean talking.”
He looked intrigued by that, distracted, but then his expression hardened. “You should hear what I have to say.” His tone was reasonable, even as his horns swelled.
She wanted to pet them and see if the rumors were true. Would he truly lose his mind if she gripped them? The prospect excited her even more! She went up on her knees to undress. “Quick. We don’t have forever.” As she removed her clothes, she might’ve been shy about her body or wished parts were different, but after seeing trends come and go for a hundred years, she gave sweet fuck-all about the body image du jour.
When she knelt before him in only her black underwear and demi bra, he appeared staggered. “Ah, Red.” Her nipples budding against tight silk had him riveted. “I can’t resist even your opening volley.” His talking merc was just icing on the cake.
“I’m waiting.” She unclasped her bra, loving his brows-drawn look as her breasts swayed.
“Dark gods below.” Rök shook his head hard, as if he stared at a mirage.
With a proud grin, she squared her shoulders—
“Fuck it, let’s deploy!” He bounded to his feet and tore off his bloodstained shirt to reveal brawny muscles and healing knife wounds.
Wounds earned from defending her. Poppy’s heart went pang, even as her body went want.
He toed off his boots, tripping before righting himself.
“You have done this before, right?”
“Once or twice.” He shoved down his pants, kicking them away.
His erection bobbed before her spellbound eyes. It figures he’d be magnificent there too. And he knew it, was sure to give her time to ogle him.
Once she could tear her gaze away, she raked it over the rest of his body from his horns down to his toes and back up. The sight of his ripped physique primed her as never before.
But her attention couldn’t stray for long from his cock. Each inch of it invited adoration. As she licked her lips for that distended flesh, she imagined tasting the broad head . . . tonguing down the meaty shaft . . . to those weighty balls.
Her appetite for his dick turned carnal, her witchly greed finding a new target. Want to nip, tease, and tug. Wrench groans from his lungs. Make him wish I’d summon him . . .
Though she could have stared for hours, he half-tackled her atop the quilts. She’d expected practiced smoothness from such a player, but this barely harnessed aggression was doing it for her.
When she wriggled from her panties, he swallowed hard. “I might have done this once or twice, but I can’t quite remember a single time before you.”
Awww. Making her voice a purr, she said, “You heard something tasty was here tonight and you wanted to jump all over it? There is. You may.”
Amusement lit his sinful expression as he moved between her thighs. “Oh, may I? If you think that’s how the dynamic between us will play out . . .” He trailed off when she let her knees fall wide. The demon’s eyes grew glazed as he turned a one-syllable word into three: “Fuh huh kuhk.”
THIRTEEN
Mind blank.
Mind.
Blank.
Too beautiful. Rök felt like he’d been awestruck at the sight of the divine.
Damp curls framed glistening, pink flesh. His tongue flicked in his mouth for a taste. Her little clit was taut and plump, must ache. He understood—his cock, horns, and fangs pained him as never before.
Take it slow warred with DEVOUR HER.
Her intoxicating scent made him as high as opium. When she undulated her hips, the entry to her sex beckoned, and demonic urges racked him. He burned to mount her, mate her, thrusting his cock inside her sheath until they both reached oblivion.
Mine. He ran his swollen horns along one of her pale thighs. The other. He rubbed across her belly and breasts. All mine.
She sat up on her elbows and gasped, “Demon!”
“Problem with that?” If Wiccans didn’t have mates, how to get her to sign on for more? Only one time frame would do: forever.
In answer, she parted her thighs even more, like an offering. The altar of everything.