My Sunrise Sunset Paramour (Vampire’s Romance #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Vampire's Romance Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
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“Theseus!”

He only took that as a sign to go harder, faster, nearly pinning me down onto the bed as he, too, found release, and each time he did, he bit my shoulder. It didn’t hurt anymore. It was the opposite, and I found it soothing.

I felt him pull out of me, but there was no rest, not for either of us. With ease, he lay beside me, pulling me against his body, our skin pressing together. When I looked up at him, he was staring down at me, his eyes glazed over with nothing but lust. His hair was a scattered mess, and his chest scrapes were healing from where I had dragged my nails.

He lifted his free arm over to brush the curls from my face before cupping the side of my face. “Who knew the difference would be so…different?”

For some reason, I knew exactly what he meant. Reaching up, I smacked his arm away. “Do not compare me to anyone else from your past.”

He smirked.

And I hated seeing it, so I tried to roll away, but he held me tighter and, instead, rolled with me as I tried to escape his arms.

“Forgive.”

I looked elsewhere.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “How long I’ve waited for you. How long I’ve waited to have you like this…Can you even fathom? Now to have you, I am beside myself with joy.”

It wasn’t as if I were truly mad at his earlier comment. But hearing his words seemed to enchant me, and I shifted to lay on his chest, hugging him the best I could. He clung to me, and I could feel his hands on my back. I had to make sure my heart wasn’t beating because it felt like it was on some cloud, floating blissfully.

“Tell me something random,” I whispered.

“Random?” he questioned.

I nodded against his chest. “Something no one else would know about you. I don’t like the color silver.”

“Why?” he questioned.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it looks okay on other people, but I always prefer gold.”

He chuckled, and I frowned, looking up to him.

“What?”

He gazed into my eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “In the very few memories I have of my childhood before immortality, I recall stealing from those who only wore gold.”

“Stealing?” I repeated, trying to imagine what he looked like as a child.

“Back then, gold was seen as the metal of the gods and believed to have descended from the sun. Many tried to use it to make ornaments, jewelry, but the lords of our time, those much richer and more powerful, forbade it to be worn by commoners. That way, when they walked, we would all know they were of status. Very foolish to me, for it made them easy marks.”

“I thought you said your mother left you money and stuff. Why did you steal?”

“I didn’t steal for wealth. I stole to prove I could get away with it. It was a thing of pride for my childhood self. It was something perilous, and yet I managed it. All the other boys thought of me as some kind of hero. They never told on me because I gave them the things I took,” he said, and for some reason, he still seemed so proud of it. It was somewhat funny. “However,” he went on, “I do not believe my mother understood my motivations, as her answer was to give me more gold and jewels.”

“Spoiled.” I gasped. Rhea really did treasure him above all else.

“Very.” He grinned. “But that was also the reason I stopped. One day, a woman was caught stealing a ring from some high-born woman. They cut off her hand and branded her face. I saw it happen and worried the same would come of my mother. After all, I thought there was only so much she could get away with giving me. So, I stopped and carefully used the money she gave me to enlist in the military.”

“Do your stories always have pain?” I frowned as he brushed his thumb over my lips.

“Where was the pain?”

“A woman lost her hand and was branded.”

“She stole.”

I gasped, my mouth hanging open. “Hypocrite!”

“Very much so.”

For some reason, I laughed, and he grinned, flipping me over and climbing back on top of me. “In time, you will learn my many other faults.”

My eyebrow raised. “Is that so? What have I learned so far? Other than your promiscuous past.”

He chuckled, leaning forward until his face hovered above mine, so close that our noses were nearly touching. “I have learned you are prone to jealousy, unforgiving, and petty.”

“Hey—”

He kissed my lips, stopping me from speaking—but only for a moment—before our lips separated. “Strange how I enjoy that it bothers you.”

“It does not—”

Once more, he kissed me, and this time, I felt his tongue as it entered my mouth, and just as I arched up, he pulled back.


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