His Darkest Deceit (Insatiable Instinct #1) Read Online Addison Cain

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Insatiable Instinct Series by Addison Cain
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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Too large for a single person, there were far more rooms than necessary. And even though I searched them all, he wasn’t hiding in any of them.

Not the offices, spare sleeping quarters, cooking area, nor lounge. Not the training rooms or indoor gardens. When I dared open an outside door and walk into the cold night air, I did not find him on his expansive terrace. What I did find was an amazing view of our settlement twinkling below me in the night. Never had I seen the city from such a vantage. Hybrid trainees lived on the lower levels where the view was misty. My whole life, my horizon had been an undulating wall of gray.

But in General Cyderial’s tower, there was nothing but endless universe above me.

At my feet, our city sat like the eye of a storm in a sea of swirling fog battering against the filters in its never-ending bid to seep in. Angry mist blanketed the land as far as the eye could see, and from such a vantage, it was more beautiful than I could say.

Yet nothing might ever compare to the stars smeared across the night sky, galaxies swirling, planets glowing bright.

I never imagined it could be so vast. Never thought of it at all actually, not when my tiny dormitory window offered no such view.

This magnificent spectacle of darkness and light was breathtaking.

Sharp wind banked against skin that burned hot enough to steam, buffering my hair with an icy and soothing slap as it teased heat out of me.

Never would I have seen such a thing had I gone straight into the fog. Never would I have known there was so much more beyond its swirling glory.

Swallowing, thirsty and fevered, I stared in wonder and almost forgot about the missing male whose intentions toward me were flawed.

Who had left me here alone after behaving atrociously. Who deceived, who craved, who claimed he was my slave, even as he locked me away and left me to molder in his den.

I was the one bullied and tricked.

I was the slave. The possession.

One that had been put away like a tool no longer required. Eventually, he would come back, use me, and then… what? Make me sleep when he remembered his mate was troublesome and argumentative?

I always had been when it came to him.

Was he at the academy right now, stealing the dreams of more students? After all, his mate was conveniently tucked away and out of trouble.

You are safe, his note said.

Not from him.

Trapped in his house. And I was indeed trapped, as I had tried the front door, only to find several complicated locks fully engaged.

I was free to move about the dwelling and had done so blatantly, leaving reminders of my presence in each space. If I saw a vase, I moved it to a more appropriate location. Knickknacks were rearranged in any way I saw fit.

A gilded cage for me to play in or go mad, thinking over how truly trapped I really was. And gilded it was. In a similar style to his office, all he possessed was beautiful, each room filled with exactly the kinds of things I would want to explore.

Uncut gemstones, geodes, native fossils, living toxic flowers in pretty pots. The walls were all soft shades, the furniture feminine and inviting. Every window was polished, every surface free of dust.

This level of cleanliness went beyond a standard cleaning robot’s protocol. The male had taken pleasure in maintaining his home to his militant standards.

So he could lock me in it.

Abandoning the terrace, I made my way inside, searching out a new distraction. Creeping around in the dark brought back the deceptively liberating sensations I had known sneaking through the academy at night. An agitated thrill that didn’t soothe or offer any real sense of achievement.

False freedom wasn’t enough.

The pretty things speckled shelves and table tops, and I touched all of them. Dug through drawers looking over private papers, fingered his books, curling my lip to find the journal I had seen him hold when I had first awoken in this place.

A Guidebook on Pleasing Young Mates.

Handwritten by some hybrid chauvinist who must have stolen another unwilling female to torment for fun, no doubt.

Flipping through the well-read pages, I imagined males trading these copies with one another, a secret library of hybrid sex manuals waiting for any man who wanted information.

While the females had nothing.

Your young mate will be nervous, no matter how attentive you are to her sexual pleasure. Every choice you make will have consequences, so you must be prepared to deal with them as they arise. Excessive firmness will result in resistance. Overcoddling poor behavior will result in her insecurity. Females require strong mates. Yet never forget, there is a fine line between overpowering a woman and leaving her to her whims.


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