Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
He hums and his hand slides up my stomach and between my breasts. His hips shift closer and I’m aware of the hard length of him against me.
My cheeks heat and I clear my throat. “Good morning.”
He hums again and nuzzles my nape, then guides me onto my back, bracing himself on his elbows above me. I part my legs, welcoming the weight of him as he settles between them.
I explore his chest, then the breadth of his shoulders, with my fingertips, and he shivers above me.
He trails kisses from the corner of my mouth to my jaw to the crook of my neck, and breathes me in. “This,” he says, nipping at the sensitive skin there. “This is what you’re supposed to smell like.” Pushing himself up onto one palm, he uses his free hand to trace my collarbone.
He trails one finger from the hollow of my neck down between my breasts and to my navel. I arch into the touch, silently pleading for more.
“Does it feel different?” He tracks his fingers as they trace invisible paths across my rib cage and beneath my breasts.
“What?”
He smiles. “When you wake in your true form—does it feel any different than when you’re shifted into someone else’s?”
“Yes.” His touch is inching upward. I can barely breathe, let alone think. “When I’m in another form, everything is somewhat muted. When I’m just me, it’s—” His knuckles brush across my breast and I gasp, bowing off the ground.
“It’s what?” he asks, as if he isn’t the one driving me to distraction.
“It’s like the clouds have parted,” I say, stealing his words from last night.
“Lucky for us the sun is shining today.” He lowers his mouth to my neck. Lower. “The things I want to do to you,” he whispers against my skin.
“I think you already did.” I arch into the teasing sweep of his lips against my belly.
“I’ve barely gotten started.”
I fell back asleep in Misha’s arms, and when I dreamed, it was of his hands on my skin and his promises whispered into my ear.
When the birds wake me at sunrise, I’m alone. I crawl out from under the protection of the big pine and find Misha sitting on the edge of the cliff overlooking the mountain range below. He looks pensive and I wonder if he’s worried about the meeting with Sol today. Or, more likely, worried about whatever it is that’s happening with his magic.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask, crouching to sit on the cool stone beside him.
“Some.” He turns his attention to me, and the way his expression morphs from worry to tenderness fills me with warmth. He scans my face over and over, as if he’s trying to remember it. “How long do I get to see you like this in the morning?”
I glance down and brush pine needles off my shirt. “By ‘like this,’ do you mean half-dressed and covered in pine needles, or . . .”
He grins. “Not what I meant, but I’m not complaining about that part either.”
“Konner said Erith can’t track me from wherever he is until Mordeus completes his resurrection.”
He grimaces. “Let’s hope it’s never complete.” He blows out a breath and rolls his shoulders back, as if physically moving into a change of subject. “What about you? How did you sleep?”
“I feel well rested.” I smile shyly. “I had someone keeping me warm, though.”
He takes my chin in his hand and leans forward to press a kiss to my lips. “I want to do so much more than keep you warm.”
My heart tumbles into a sprint. “I want that too,” I whisper.
“But how much? Because I’m sitting here this morning wondering how reckless I am to want to give you everything.”
There’s a riot of spastic butterflies raging in my belly. “Why do you think I need everything?”
“Last night, you let a king make love to you. It seems unfair that tomorrow you could find me as nothing more than a male who lost it all.”
I cock my head to the side, trying to understand everything he’s not saying. “Is this about your magic? Do you think your court is in jeopardy?”
His throat bobs. “It’s possible. No one in Faerie should assume their kingdom is safe until Mordeus has been defeated.”
“Do you think they’ve had any luck finding the witch and making a new deal?”
“I can only hope.” He sighs, brushes his hands on his pants, and pushes to standing. “We should get back to the castle before Sol grows too impatient.”
“I apologize for the delay,” Misha says as we file into the meeting room where Sol and Konner are waiting. Despite Pretha and Amira’s efforts to keep Sol distracted yesterday, there’s an undeniable tension shimmering around the table. I might have blamed that on our late arrival if it weren’t for the four heavily armed sentinels Misha has stationed in the corners of the room.