Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Her mother, Carla, was a twisted bitch who’d sold Harper to Jolene after aborting her hadn’t worked. Harper’s father, Lucian, was a self-centered nomad with the emotional age of a child. Knox had known that Harper would never be anything like either of them. She was everything a mother should be—caring, protective, nurturing, admiringly patient, and she loved Asher unconditionally.
Knox curled her hair around her ear. “We knew someone would try to get to Asher eventually.”
“I guess I was hoping that just maybe he’d be left alone.”
“They won’t get to him, Harper. No one will touch him. I’ll destroy demonkind before I let it happen.”
“I know. And I’ll be right at your side while you do it,” Harper vowed, meaning every word. And then he kissed her. As always, his potent sex appeal and alpha energy wrapped around her. Really, there was no escaping the effects of his raw sexual magnetism. No stopping her nerve endings from sparking to life or goosebumps sweeping across her flesh, making it hypersensitive.
Knox drew back and swiped his tongue along her lower lip. “You taste good.”
She smoothed a hand down his chest. “You look good. Far too good. It scrambles my thoughts.”
“Kind of like your scent scrambles mine.” He sipped from her mouth again. Inside him, his demon settled a little. It had missed her. Always did.
From minute one, she’d intrigued both Knox and his demon. Complex, guarded, elusive, and almost pathologically stubborn, his pretty and shiny little sphinx was a walking, talking challenge for any male. Barely five and a half feet tall, she was all carnal sensuality, innate grace, and iron strength. Her mouth, lush and erotic, was as tempting as her delicate yet sinfully curved body.
He loved knowing she was his. Loved knotting his fingers in her sleek dark hair as he fucked in and out of her. Loved watching her unusually glassy eyes, which were presently a soft violet shade, change color—it was something they did randomly yet often.
She was unique. Singular. There was literally no one like her … and she was all his. No one got to harm her and live, which meant the demon who made her bleed was on borrowed time. “Let me take another look at the scrape on your side,” said Knox.
She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.”
“I want to see. Lift your shirt.”
“No, because you’ll fuss. I’m done with the fussing.”
His demon smiled at her snippy tone. People tended to do their best to please Knox, whether out of fear, respect, or a wish to win his favor. Not Harper. She’d never had a problem telling him “no”. Never bowed down to him. Never allowed him to intimidate her. Never sought his company or approval. Hell, she hadn’t even flirted with him.
Even now, she persistently defied him. Teased him. Frustrated him. Amused him. Constantly tested his patience. Pushed back if he pushed too far. Called him on his bullshit.
She also had a wicked temper and absolutely no problem unleashing it on him, just as she had no issue at all with standing up to his demon. Few people would dare to do the latter.
“You know I won’t drop it, Harper. Not when you’re hurt.”
She snorted. “And you know your tyrannical shit is absolutely wasted on me. You learned this on day one, and yet you keep on pushing. I’m confused.”
Knox wasn’t going to lie, he had initially tried to control her; it was instinct for him to control the things around him. It had been a pointless attempt in this case. His mate had her own mind—one he found supremely fascinating—and she knew how to use it. In truth, he didn’t want to control her. He liked that he couldn’t. Admired that she demanded that he respect her insistence on being heard and counted. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t always push to get his way.
Using his psychic hands, Knox shackled her wrists and pinned them behind her back. Ignoring her string of curses, he kept her plastered against him with one hand while peeling up her shirt with his other. “It’s healing well,” he said. “The wound’s closed.” He probed the cut on her head. “It seems to also be healing nicely.”
“I told you I was fine,” she clipped.
“You did,” he said, pressing a soothing kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck. Not wanting to get her all riled up, he released her hands. She splayed her hands on his chest and probably would have tried shoving him away if he hadn’t scraped his teeth over her pulse. He smiled at her little gasp. She was incredibly responsive, and he relished and took advantage of that. Had done since they very first met. It still shocked him just how hard and fast he’d fallen for her. What had shocked him more was that his demon did the same. It hadn’t been long before it pushed to collect and claim her.