Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
A chuckle before he bent his head so she could fulfill her first fantasy: to kiss first one wicked dent in his cheek, then the other.
He groaned, nuzzled her once more.
Suckling kisses on her throat, his big body a heavy blanket.
When he began to walk backward, tugging her along with him, she went without hesitation.
Stopping at the sofa, he sat down . . . and pulled her down into his lap.
Her dress rode up, exposing nearly all of her. She didn’t care. Not when she could feel the heavy muscle of him beneath her, around her. Not when his eyes were wild and he made no effort to hide the vivid evidence of his arousal.
Her skin stretched, a hot power arcing through her veins even as she felt herself losing the last vestiges of control. As if he’d felt the frenetic pulse of her energy, Yakov stroked her thigh. His touch was tiny prickles all across her body, a violent awareness that led to a clenching between her thighs, and suddenly the air was too thin, too hard to swallow.
She clutched at him, struggling to hold on as the entire world spun.
Yakov’s expression altered, softened in a way she didn’t understand. “Come here, Theo mine. Right here.”
Her mind chaos, she couldn’t process the meaning of his words, but he was nudging her head toward his shoulder, his arms warm bands around her. She wanted to resist, panicked all over again that this was it, her one and only chance, but the weight of his hand on the back of her neck, the idea of being held against his skin as if she mattered . . . she couldn’t resist that.
One hand flexing against his pectoral muscle, she tucked her face against his neck and gave in to the desire to get drunk on his scent, on his warmth, on his very being.
“There you go.” The rumble of his chest was a vibration against her breasts, his breath kissing her neck as she nuzzled deeper into him. “Yes, Thela. Take what you need.”
He began to stroke her back.
Her dress had shifted during their embrace and she knew the instant he felt the first ripple of raised skin on her back. The slightest pause . . . before he continued on in his caresses. Exhaling, she buried her face against him and just . . . let go.
For the first time in her life, she let go without fear.
As she did so, a heavy warmth spread over her skin, through her limbs, and into her blood. The storm quieted into a sensation she’d never before felt. Was this what it felt like to be safe?
Her eyelids began to droop.
Theo wanted to fight it. She might be new at intimate sensation, but she knew sleep didn’t come into it. But when she stirred, Yakov murmured to her that it was all right, and he kept on stroking her with those strong, careful hands, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She surrendered and fell into a sleep as soft and dark as the velvet she’d once surreptitiously touched as a child.
* * *
* * *
YAKOV stroked his hands over his sleeping dream woman. What would the other unmated males in the den say if they saw him now? Probably razz him forever about the fact that his date had fallen asleep rather than exchange skin privileges with him.
He should’ve been annoyed, insulted.
All he felt, however, was a wave of tenderness stark and primal.
He wanted desperately to move her hair aside and look at the scars he’d touched on her back, but despite her tacit permission, he didn’t. Whatever that was, it wasn’t good. He’d felt it in the tension in her body, the stiffness in the line of her spine. Given her history, he had a fucking good idea of who’d done that to her—and if she never wanted to talk about it? He’d handle it. He wasn’t going to push her back into the abyss.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her hair. “You’re safe, serdtse moyo.” His heart had never had a chance when it came to Theo. “Sleep.”
He didn’t know how long he’d held her when she whimpered. He immediately murmured comforting words to her, stroking his hands down her back . . . but she jolted out of sleep, staring at him with eyes that had gone an eerily flat black. Her face was sleep creased on one side, her hair mussed.
She jerked her head this way and that with wild desperation.
“Hey,” he murmured, keeping his voice a low rumble. “It’s Yasha. You’re in a StoneWater apartment. Safe.”
But when he would’ve raised his hand to push strands of hair off her face, she scrambled back and away so fast that she almost tumbled onto the floor as she got her trembling legs under her. “I—” A harsh gasp of air, those dark eyes staring at him as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.