Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Oh, uh, okay.”
I waved him off, then went inside.
Ronin was sitting up in his bed, his face obscured by the mirror he was holding.
“Is that the mirror you’ve been using to spy on me?” I asked. “Because I’ll be having that now.”
“Baby girl, brace yourself. You’re going to see what I look like now.”
Ronin lowered the mirror, and I gasped.
It was him. Sitting before me was the Ronin I knew and the face I knew. Raven hair still thick and curling around two iridescent horns. His eyes were still downcast, almond-shaped jewels. His skin was still breakable porcelain. His jaw still smooth perfection. His lips were still small little puckered things, and his nose still long and hooked.
Everything was the same... and not. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow, Ronin’s face was all of those things and more now. His hair was a deeper, purer black. His ruby eyes shone ten times as bright. His skin looked smoother, and his lips were even more pillowy and inviting—daring me to deny him a kiss.
“Wow,” I breathed. “You’re—”
“Hideous,” he finished, glaring into the mirror. “How can you stand to look at me?”
“Wow, dude.” I dropped down next to him. “If you think that face is hideous, you must struggle to keep down your breakfast whenever you see mine.”
Ronin frowned, his perfectly plucked brows drawing together. “What are you talking about? You’re the most beautiful creature there ever was or will be.”
I blushed, ducking my face. I was twenty-two years old for Hera’s sake. I wasn’t a red-faced teenager anymore, but even so, I had no defense against Ronin Belphe. The way he dropped compliments on me like he was just stating facts of life, undid me every time.
“So what’s going on?” I asked, changing the subject. “Why did you want to see Tristan before you saw me?”
“I needed his help with something. Turns out, that mutt has a use after all. The guy’s like an expert when it comes to making mortal women fall in love with him. He’s got every pussy dripping for him,” said the never-going-to-not-be-a-fucking-work-in-progress. “He gave me the secret to make you mine forever.”
I rubbed my temples. I suddenly felt a headache coming on. “All right. Lay it on me.”
“Hold on. I wrote it down.” He reached over and opened the nightstand drawer. He pulled out a piece of paper. “It’s called... con-sent,” Ronin pronounced. “So, it’s like, I ask you if you want to do something, and then if you say yes, we do it, but—and this is the important bit—if you say no.” He clapped. “We don’t do it. Crazy, right?”
“Astounding,” I deadpanned.
He blinked at me, so adorably clueless. “Have you heard of this consent stuff before?”
“I have.” A smile tugged at my lips. “And Tristan is right. Us mortal women get wet for consent like nothing else.”
“Well, there you fucking go,” Ronin crowed, whooping it up. “Let’s try it out right now.”
A tiny thrill of anticipation went through me, warming up my core. It had been a very long time since Ronin and I had rolled around in the sheets, and aphrodisiac or no aphrodisiac, we were incredibly sexually compatible.
“Here goes,” Ronin began. “Hunter, I know you want me to get the leech out of the wall, but after I do, do I have your consent to kill him?”
“No!” I blared, shooting upright. “And are you telling me he’s still in there? Dammit, Ronin, get him out!”
“All right, I will.” He couldn’t have sound less interested in doing so if he tried. “But if Professor Leech has to live, then can I at least get your consent to kill every other man who expresses sexual interest in you?”
I shook my head. “Only if they express that interest physically and against my will.”
“Has the mutt expressed his sexual interest physically and against your will?”
“He has not,” I clipped.
“Can I pretend you said he did and kill him anyway?”
I was full-blown laughing now. Climbing onto the bed, I swung my leg over him and straddled his lap. “Ronin, you could be getting my consent for much more interesting things right now, so do you really want to keep talking about Santino and Tristan?”
His brows shot up his forehead as understanding hit him in the face. “Charlotte Hunter, do I have your consent to fuck you like a wild beast?”
“Yes. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
Giggling like outlaws on the run, our clothes came off in a flurry of kisses, nips and moans.
Ronin flipped us over—me on my back and him on top. Grasping my wrists, he pinned them down on either side of my head. “I want us to do it right this time, Hunter.”
“I want that too.”
He placed the lightest kiss on my neck, popping goose bumps on my heated flesh. “That’s why I want you to show me how you like it. How you want it.”