Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Her breath caught.
“You want me to do these things, don’t you?” A statement, not a question.
Voice wobbling, she told him, “Yes. Do the things. All the things.” She might die if he didn’t. Then a thought hit, and she gasped. “What about birth control?”
“Taken care of, wife.” He tapped a stone in his wrist cuff.
A slow smile broke free. “Well. Aren’t you the resourceful royal.”
A wicked gleam lit his irises. “I’m going to love this.” He lowered to one knee, then the other, in a purposeful procession.
Tremors invaded, a siege she couldn’t regret. He never broke eye contact or freed her from his iron grip. No, he left her utterly open to him. Pinned and vulnerable. And she liked it. Ached to be exposed and defenseless before her husband. Just as he laid himself bare before her.
As he peered up at her from a position of surrender, pride squared her shoulders. For the first time, she felt like a queen without equal. This besotted war king had won her hand in marriage and reignited the fires of hope in her heart. He might be hers, now and always.
He leaned closer to where she ached. But he did nothing else. Her nerves buzzed with eagerness and anticipation. She licked her lips.
“I’ll always be yours,” he repeated. “You’ll always be mine.” Leaning...
She held her breath...
Contact! “Yes!” She gasped as pleasure seized her. Threading her fingers through his hair, Viori undulated against his tongue. “Yes, Micah, yes! Harder. Faster. Slower. Faster.” The words tumbled free, without first being filtered through her mind.
Tension coiled, drawing tight. Moans and broken cries escaped. His name. His title—husband. Oh, the things this magnificent male made her feel. The way he attended to her need, fully engaged in her reactions, as lost as she was.
She imagined how they must look right now, wild in the moonlight. A warrior and his female, adrift in the throes.
“I like, I like, I like.” Her cries spurred him on.
He didn’t stop until she shattered with a scream. As her body shook and her heart soared, he leaped to his feet, already ripping off the remainder of his clothing. Viori basked in the beauty of him. The powerful body, sculpted with the most amazing muscle. Exquisite pale skin littered with those tantalizing scars. Barely banked ferocity.
He stepped between her legs once more. She clasped the hard globes of his backside and flipped her gaze to his face. Moonlight framed him. His chin was lifted, his gaze downcast, locked on her, and glittering. Relentless. His chest rose and fell with his breaths, the air between them thicker by the second. He was brutal yet controlled.
“Do you want more from me, wife?” Pride stamped every line of his being. Dark hair unkempt, irises darker than usual yet set ablaze. He was the culmination of a myriad secret fantasies she’d feared to entertain.
“I want...” She leaned into him to kiss one of his scars, then ran her tongue over another.
His exhalations grew ravaged, broken. “Vee. Red,” he growled.
“Viori,” she whispered, the admission slipping out. Her defenses were cracking and falling. “My name is Viori.” Would he peg her as the sister of his most hated foe? End this before it began?
“Viori.” He kissed the corner of her eye, not missing a beat. No, he hadn’t pegged her, and she exhaled a breath. Born from relief or regret, she didn’t know. “Sweet Viori.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “My Viori.” He traced the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips. “You still haven’t answered me.”
A response rose from her deepest of depths, where pleasure still raged. “Yes,” she rasped. “I want more from you.”
“Be very sure you mean those words.” He reached up, combing his fingers through her hair before closing them around a fistful of strands, tilting her head to a new angle. “When I take you, I keep you. That is nonnegotiable.”
To belong... “I am—” she squeezed his backside before stroking his erection “—very sure.”
Air hissed between his teeth. Then he was lunging at her, kissing her, driving her against the stone bed. His delicious weight pinned her to the surface. His scent—their scent—intoxicated her senses, leaving her dizzy.
He positioned his length at her entrance.
“Do it,” she pleaded.
With a groan, he pushed his way in, slowly filling and stretching her. Consuming. Possessing. Owning. When he thrust the rest of the way, she cried out for more.
He thrust again. And again. Plunging. Their ragged moans blended, creating the sweetest music. But all too soon, madness set in, and she could no longer think beyond her need for him. For more. More. More!
“Yes, Micah. Yes.” Viori wrapped her legs around him, meeting each plunge with a whip of her hips, taking him deep. Deeper. Kissing him again. The most intimate exchange of her life.