Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Locking my hands around her tiny waist, I drag her closer. She utters a yelp and tries to push me away, but she’s no match for my strength.
I study her breasts. They’re not wet from the juice. To be sure, I lean in and sniff her skin.
“Hey,” she cries out. “What are you doing?”
The only smell that clings to her is the intoxicating fragrance of dragon flower blossoms. There’s no trace of the cloyingly sweet scent of poison.
Beating her fists on my shoulders, she shouts, “Let go!”
“Keep still,” I say with warning.
Whatever she hears in my voice, which sounds more animalistic than human, makes her obey.
Good girl.
I keep my hands fastened around her middle in case she gets it into her head to defy me again. My mate is obstinate. It’s a characteristic I’m quickly getting to know.
Lifting her by the hips, I set her aside so that no part of her body touches the dress.
“Do not move,” I repeat. “Disobey me, and there will be consequences.”
Her throat ripples as she swallows.
I kneel down and pick up the dress between a forefinger and thumb. The inner layer is dry. The thin cloth that lines the dress is impermeable. We use it for protective clothing but also to soften the roughness of the shiny outer fabric that includes hair-thin threads of spun silver.
I’m grateful for the meticulous specifications I gave when ordering the dress. At least none of the toxic substance came into contact with her skin. If that cursed pixie dragon had knocked the goblet out of my hand a second later, things would’ve worked out very differently.
A shudder runs through me at the thought.
That vulturous little dragon saved her. As for me, I almost forced her to drink. I nearly sent my own mate to her death.
The rage rises again, and with it the uncontrollable power that shakes the very walls. The light inside the reflective stones goes out. Darkness bleeds through the hallway. My eyes adjust quickly, their enhanced ability allowing me to see through the inky shadows that swallow us.
“Aruan,” Elsie says, my name sounding like a question on her lips.
I look at her.
She’s folded her arms around her breasts, hiding her nakedness from me, but the curly triangle of copper hair between her legs is exposed, and the sight does things to me, things that are highly inappropriate given where we are and what just happened.
I almost lost her.
Again.
A snarl curls my lips.
There’s only one thought left now, one ruling instinct, and for once, my mind and my body are aligned.
Claim her.
I’m on her in a wink, cupping her head in my hands and crushing my mouth to hers in a bruising kiss.
The tiara slides down her hair and falls somewhere on the floor. She utters something that’s lost in the clash of our teeth. Her lips on mine are like homecoming. The vibration I first felt at her presence intensifies ten moon cycles over. When I taste the sweetness of her tongue, my mind finally fails me. My body takes over, and what it demands is to sink deep inside her hidden heat.
Her resistance is a vague notion like the fine winter mist over the lake. The scent of her skin doesn’t help. It cloaks my senses and drives me mad. The man has fled, and only the beast is left. He’s ruled by instinct alone. He needs to claim what’s his.
A puff of air from her lips steals into our kiss.
I’ve backed her up to the wall. The surface behind her is rough, but it serves the purpose of keeping her up as I part her legs with my knee and slide a thigh between her naked limbs. I can feel her wetness through the fabric of my pants. I can smell her arousal and her readiness. I can sense her submission as her resistance crumbles.
The kiss turns less violent as she gives in. I don’t waste time. I take what she offers by plundering her mouth. Her moans spur me on. The poison that could’ve killed her has manifested as the venom in my blood that makes me lose all rationality and control. The dress on the floor is forgotten, and so is the reason why she’s naked. All I can focus on is that she’s here, ready and willing, her naked body accessible and her mouth already mine.
My promise to make this enjoyable for her and therefore ignore my own needs is forgotten too, not by choice but because I’ve lost the ability to think. All that remains is the need, the terrible urge, the insatiable desire.
No longer commanded by a primal exigency to prevent her from getting away, I release my hold on her head so I can explore the smoothness of her shoulders. Her skin is like silk beneath my palms. The small mounds of her breasts were made for my hands. Those pretty nipples are going to taste so good in the gentle vise of my teeth when I’ve rolled them into hard little points between my fingers.