Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
The flush in her complexion deepens.
“No,” she denies. “Let go of me and tell me where to find my sister. Right now! Do that and I’ll give you your explanation for this crazy behavior. Now, up! Off!”
“Aren’t you a bossy little thing?”
“You have no idea,” she says, blue eyes narrowed. “I highly recommend you stop fucking around here.”
“If you’re taken, why do you wanna smell alluring to everyone? Are you a little tease?”
“Fuck you,” she snaps.
“As you wish,” I say, smiling wide.
8
Amelia
He puts his nose behind my earlobe and inhales me again.
I dig my nails into his chest. Hard.
A rumbling sound rises, getting louder and louder. It’s as if it’s coming from under the bed we’re on. After a split second of confusion, I realize it’s coming from him. He’s still a person, not a giant white wolf, but those are wolf noises. Fear prickles, and I freeze, wondering if he’s about to turn into a wolf again and rip me to shreds.
But there’s wetness on my neck. Sensation sparks through me. Desire kicks up a notch as he licks my neck.
But despite how great that feels, I’m still digging my nails into his skin. He lifts his head and looks directly into my eyes with those dark eyes of his. Their depth this close shakes me to my core; it feels utterly…odd. I drag my gaze away. That aroma hits again.
Whatever it is, it’s as incredible as Christmas morning, and suddenly, my mouth is watering. Not only that, my nipples are erect and it’s not because I’m cold. In fact, I’m the opposite of cold, I’m toasty warm. And the fact that this gorgeous, naked man is on top of me? Somewhere between the time he lifted me over his shoulder and now, my underwear became drenched.
Or, oh… maybe it happened back in the parking lot during that kiss.
He inhales deep and chuckles. “Mm. That smells good.”
I don’t know if he means that aroma in the air or if he means me.
“Can’t wait to taste it,” he tacks on and now I know he thinks that smell is coming from me.
As a wolf slash man I’m guessing he can smell things I probably can’t. I should feel embarrassed, but instead I’m turned on. And having trouble tearing my gaze away.
He's leaned on his forearms, hands framing my face. He lifts one, balancing on his elbows, then his thumb glides slowly along my cheekbone.
His expression goes from cocky and heated to gentle.
“Didn’t know it’d feel like this.” His voice has gone huskier, too. “Didn’t know how real, how overpowering it’d be. You hear about it, but until you’re face to face with it – you don’t know. But it is. I believe it now, that it’s the most potent drug in the world.”
I flinch. His words, his tone, and his expression are a trifecta that strikes a match and lights a flame deep in my chest, making my whole body feel strange. Out of tune. Craving something…
“I’m gonna make you mine now,” he informs and then his head descends – in what feels like slow motion until his mouth touches mine briefly. “Can’t wait, Amelia. This is instinct, fate, and hunger and it’s all stronger than my self-control.”
In my head I scream, it’s not… it’s voodoo, but for some reason, I don’t say it, don’t even fight. I feel intoxicated. And there’s a throbbing between my legs, extreme… like nothing I’ve ever felt. That scent in the air – is it a drug? Is it part of this spell that Auntie Nelle paid for?
I lick my lips and warmth radiates through me, starting at my mouth, blazing a trail down to my boot-covered toes. My belly dips, my limbs tingle underneath a sizzling hot, dark shapeshifter gaze. He stares so deep into my eyes, for a long, frozen moment. I bite the side of my bottom lip and it makes his eyes drop to my mouth as he twists sideways so he’s no longer on top of me, instead on his side. My zipper goes down. I swallow at the same time as his hand slides into my jeans, fingertips going straight into my panties. I drag oxygen into my body.
He growls, low in his chest, then whispers, “Yeah. This is mine. My Amelia,” he says, eyes sparkling like a sexy villain who is about to plunder some treasure.
“What’s your name?” I ask, trapped under his heated gaze.
He smiles wide and then his shoulders shake with silent laughter. “Probably important, isn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply. “Mason. Mason Quinn. Ready to become Amelia Quinn?”
The way he says it is like James Bond would say it, with an arrogance to it, like I should know that his name is important.
But also…
Amelia Quinn? Sounds heaps more like me than Amelia Bullock. I try to shake that utterly bizarre thought off. And with it, the odd urge to grab a pen and write that down to see how it looks on paper. Would I choose the number two cursive letter Q or do something more calligraphic? A big O with a fancy squiggle at five o’clock. Hm. Definitely a nicer ring to it than…