Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Truthfully…no, she hadn’t. Many other places, but not there. She knew it happened, but she’d never experienced it. She would’ve never assumed fae practiced it.
Daisy salivated to taste it. To flick her tongue across it.
He groaned, obviously hearing her thoughts.
“Remember that desire,” he said as he lowered between her thighs, his hot breath washing her apex. “You will get your chance when you are kneeling in front of me. In front of my whole court.”
The prospect seemed absurd. Ridiculous. Rage inducing. But she couldn’t think about any of that right now. He lowered his mouth to her body and all her thoughts fled. The concerns of her reality were a problem for another day. Right now, she was occupied. She’d survived a vicious monster—again—felt vicious magic, and really needed a release and then sleep. Right now, she needed his tongue to do exactly what it was doing.
He licked up her center and sucked, swirling his tongue around her most sensitive area. He threaded his fingers into her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She yanked on his hair a little, groaned, and arched enough that it would probably make her sore the next day. Magic washed all down her body in the most complex sensations she’d ever experienced, and it felt like his weight covering her. Him inside of her. Him everywhere. The air danced and sparkled with his power, electric sizzles that ran across her skin and down into her body. His mouth pulsed glorious suction; his fingers and magic worked in dizzying tandem until she lost all semblance of self-control. She turned into the wild thing he’d predicted, moaning and begging and maybe once calling him a god. Near the edge, when she was braced on the cliff and strung out in bliss, control long gone, her dignity a thing of the past, he pulled away to blow softly on her wet and tortured core.
“You fucking—” She writhed like a woman possessed, nearly crying with need. “Please. Please. Please.”
His magic took hold of her, his mouth touched back down, and she came utterly undone. The gush of pleasure was so extreme that her sensibilities wobbled. His following love bites gave her torturous aftershocks, and then he was beside her, gathering her limp form up into his arms and hugging her close.
“At least let me use my hand,” she murmured, turning into his warmth, her eyes drifting closed. “Let me touch you and explore that terrific body.”
“No. I worry that if you touch me, I won’t be able to keep in control. I won’t be able to keep you free of another tether to me. Earlier was enough. You need your sleep. Rest, dove, for tomorrow everything will change. There will be no more obstacles in our way. Tomorrow, we go into the viper’s nest.”
25
It was dawn when they awoke again, entwined together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Light flared against the drawn shades in pulses of color.
Tarian sat up quickly, startling her. He untwisted his legs from around hers and swung them over the edge of the bed. In a moment he was striding, nude and glorious, to the window. He pulled up the shades and looked out, turning his head to the right and flexing his whole body.
“It looks like the Celestials are taking care of the darkrend problem,” he murmured into the din.
She pulled back the sheets and met him there. He turned, leaning his shoulder against the wall at the side of the window. With his other hand, he drew her in so she could see, her back against his front, his palm spread against the bare flesh of her belly.
Just across the clearing, in the sparse trees of the area, the darkrend struck at the sky with its huge claws. Even without sound she could recognize its roar trying to freeze its prey. Or, in this case, his attackers.
Against the lightening and changing colors of the sky, pink tinging the pale blue, beautiful, winged shapes dove and spun around the great beast. Explosions of light hit off its great head or hulking shoulders, knocking it back or forcing it to hunch down. They spiraled toward it in pairs or groups, slicing into it with their weapons and their magic.
She stood there, transfixed. Riveted. The beauty of their movements, of their wings, absolutely entranced her. They were efficient in their viciousness and deadly in their strikes.
The creature raged at them, slashing the air. The Celestials dove to avoid its claws, never ceasing their strikes. Full dawn blazed by the time the beast went down, the twisted tormentor no match for the protectors of the wylds.
The silence felt heavy in the wake. Like the sound had deadened not just outside the room, but within as well.
She turned back to find Tarian staring, his eyes hard but hollow. He looked frustrated but also…forlorn. She studied him harder, wondering about those conflicting emotions.