Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I slid into bed beside her, my body immediately responding to her warmth, her proximity. I reached for her, my hand cupping her face, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
Her eyes fluttered close.
“I’m going to fill you up until you can’t take it anymore,” I promised, my voice a rough whisper. “Until you’re begging me to stop.”
“What if I don’t beg for you to stop?” she challenged, a husky low whisper.
“Careful now. You’re playing with the beast,” I warned her. “He doesn’t like to be probed and provoked by reckless little girls.”
“I know,” Serafina replied, her voice breathless. “But the beast is mine, isn’t he?”
Yeah, he fucking was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Serafina
I stood before the mirror, running the silver brush through my dark hair. The bristles caught on a tangle and I winced, my fingers working to gently separate the strands.
It had been three weeks since I invited Adrian into my bed. Willingly.
And every time, he showed me new ways of finding pleasure.
My lips were swollen, a visible reminder of last night. Of Adrian’s savage passion, his hunger for me. I traced my lips with my fingertip, feeling the tender flesh beneath my touch.
I could still feel him.
His mouth on mine, his hands on my body, the way he had taken me with such carnal, brutal force.
I closed my eyes, briefly allowing myself to remember the weight of him, the way he had whispered my name like a sinful prayer against my skin.
A flush crept up my neck at the memory.
Adrian consumed me.
He was utterly intoxicating. His touch. His lips. Him. Him. Him.
Goddamn it, all of him.
My fingers trailed to my throat where faint bruises marred my pale skin. Evidence of his possession. His claim.
I traced the bite marks, my heart fluttering with a dangerous mix of revulsion and desire.
I was still waiting. Still biding my time.
The right moment hasn’t come yet.
Patience is a virtue.
A small smile played at my lips as I continued to brush my hair but that smile faded just as quickly as a strange scent reached my nostrils.
Sharp. Acrid. Familiar.
I turned, my nose wrinkling as I tried to identify it.
The air in my bedroom seemed different, heavier somehow.
And then I realized—smoke. I was smelling smoke.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
No. Please, no.
Not fire. Not again.
My gaze darted around the room, searching frantically for the source. Nothing.
But my nostrils flared as the smell was growing stronger, more intense. My lungs constricted, panic rising like a tide within me.
A thin tendril of smoke curled beneath my bedroom door, followed by another, and another. The air grew thick, acrid, burning my lungs with each panicked breath.
“Fire,” I whispered, the word barely audible even to my own ears.
This couldn’t be happening.
No…
It couldn’t be.
My body went rigid with terror.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think.
The memory of flames consuming everything around me—the heat, the smoke, the screams. God, the agonizing screams.
I remembered all of it. Every slow second, every painful minute.
I backed away from the door, my hands trembling violently.
My chest constricted.
I can’t breathe.
The smoke was thickening now, curling into the room like a living thing, hungry and relentless. I heard the crackle of flames, the ominous sound growing louder with each passing second.
“Help,” I tried to call out, but my voice emerged as nothing more than a strangled gasp. My throat had closed, my lungs refusing to draw breath.
The smoke billowed in, dark and choking. The door began to glow, a dull orange light growing brighter as the wood began to char. Flames licked at the edges, consuming everything in their path.
The heat grew unbearable, searing my skin even from across the room, pressing against my flesh, suffocating and cruel.
I stumbled backward, my legs giving out beneath me.
I was going to die here. Burned alive.
No one was coming to save me.
I collapsed to the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the soot that was beginning to coat my skin. I hiccupped back a sob.
I tried to crawl toward the window, but my limbs refused to cooperate.
My vision blurred, the smoke filling my lungs, stealing the oxygen from my blood.
The world tilted and spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my consciousness. I was going to pass out. I was really going to die.
My chest shuddered with another broken sob.
And then I heard it—a voice cutting through the roar of the flames.
“Serafina!”
His voice was desperate, terrified in a way I had never heard before.
I tried to respond, but only a weak whimper escaped my lips.
“Serafina! Where are you?”
Closer now. So close.
I saw a dark shape moving through the smoke, and heard the sound of something being kicked aside.
And then Adrian was there, his face streaked with soot, his eyes wild with fear.
He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands reaching for me. His beautiful face was a mask of frantic desperation.