Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
She was full of him, full to bursting. Him hot in her mouth, and she was the one prime to climax.
Somehow, he still got bigger. Big enough she almost gagged on him. Then, in one slow pull, he removed himself from her mouth. She instantly felt bereft. She looked up at him through tearstained lashes, on her knees before him.
“Graves?” she whispered.
“Seeing you like this, Wren . . . I have to have you.”
She shivered. “Yes.”
He lifted her to her feet, and she slid out of her jeans and useless panties. Then she crawled backward on the bed, spreading herself before him. She watched his naked body from between her legs. All he did was stand there like a Greek god—no, a Celtic god—and she was panting for him.
She bit her lip and beckoned him forward. “I need you.”
He settled between her legs, his cock jutting toward her waiting pussy. All she wanted to do was shift and have him inside her once more. Then their eyes snapped together as if drawn by a magnet. And in that gaze, she saw that she was precious to him. Something new in a world that had always been the same.
“You’ll stay, Wren?” he asked.
She nodded, the nickname sliding pleasantly over her. “Yes. I’m staying.”
He pressed his lips to hers, almost gentle, before thrusting inside of her. She arched her back. Her eyes shut, her gasp audible. This was what she wanted. The way they seemed to fit just right, as if one had been waiting for the other and it was finally how it always should have been.
“Eyes on me,” Graves commanded. “Show me what’s hidden.”
She slowly opened her eyes and blinked up at him. He couldn’t read her. He couldn’t use his magic on her, and for once, he had no idea what she wanted from him. So she kept her eyes on him as he began to move in and out of her, a steady, easy rhythm. She wanted more. Harder. Faster. And yet, she’d never really had this before. This feeling between them that made sex so erotic.
“What’s hidden?”
“Everything,” he said. His thumb ran across her bottom lip. She opened for him, flicking her tongue against the pad of his finger. “And now, I can see you.”
She gasped as he pushed into her harder, their gazes never breaking as she met his thrusts with her own. Their fires mingled, the heat blooming in the room like a furnace. It centered in her core, and as they crashed together one last time, she felt it erupt. They climaxed together with such intensity that it felt as if a wave of energy had just been released from their bodies.
Graves fell forward over her, pressing his forehead against her own. “My wren.”
“Mmm,” she hummed breathlessly.
His lips found hers again. Just a light brush. “I’ll be right back.”
Then he was gone, sliding out of her and striding toward the bathroom.
She lay there, staring up at the ceiling in wonder. So, this was what she had been missing. Sex wasn’t just sex. With Graves, it was so much more.
Water gurgled in the other room, and Graves reappeared, hauling her off of the bed. She nearly crumpled as her legs tried to give out under her. He laughed under his breath and then threw her easily over his shoulder. She protested, but he was already moving as if she was as light as a feather.
The bathroom was nearly as large as the bedroom, with a sunken tub that could have doubled as a small pool and a heated jacuzzi next to it. Graves dropped her lightly to her feet on the edge before stepping into the jacuzzi, beckoning her forward.
“I could have walked,” she teased.
“And miss the chance to carry you?” He tsked. “Never.”
She grinned as she stepped inside the bubbling water, then nearly groaned at the warmth.
Before she had a chance to take a seat, Graves drew her against his naked body. She settled onto his lap, curling into him. His warm arms wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes, sighing happily.
“I’m glad you came back,” he said softly into her hair as he ran his wet fingers through the strands.
“Me too.” She trailed her hand up and down his bicep. “I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“What year did King Henry VII die?”
Graves rumbled a laugh. “1509.”
Kierse startled. “Oh.”
“Are you doing the math on my age?” he asked. “Warlocks are especially long-lived.”
She looked into his eyes. “Over five hundred years.”
“And still learning to trust,” he said, sweeping a hand down her face and tilting her head up so their lips nearly met. “But I trust you.”
“Good. Then kiss me again.”
And he did, running his tongue along her plump bottom lip as all thought fled her mind.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“Kierse, stop fidgeting,” Torra hissed at her. “You already look out of place. Try to glaze your eyes over and look a little more drugged.”