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)
Tristan was already bored with this conversation. The wolf lit another cigar, and his chair trembled beneath him at the first strike of the match. “Get on with it, then.”
“I just thought you should know...” Smirking with a pleasure almost as all-consuming as the moist, tasty holes of Charlotte Hunter, I lifted my sleeve—revealing the mark of her true name. “She’s mine.”
It took a beat for the slobbering moron to put it together.
And then he did.
“Argh!” he roared, launching himself off his pile of bodies.
Laughing, I snapped myself away as his bellows echoed through the manor.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte
Sunlight streamed through the window, tickling my eyes open. It was so bright and warm—welcoming in every way the dry, arid, burning air of hell wasn’t—
Hell? I frowned, face crumpling. There is no sun in hell.
I cracked an eyelid open, peering blearily through the bright light... until I found the source.
Ronin sat in his seemingly favorite armchair, gazing into a hand mirror. The mirror completely blocked his face, but did nothing to stop the blazing, beaming golden light shining from it.
I choked, eyes widening as that light brushed my skin, and healed me.
All my aches and pains vanished. The cuts on my lips from giving that monster of a cock not one, or two, but four blowjobs—sealed up and faded as though they were never there. The hickeys and bite marks vanished. The hobbling ache in my middle was gone.
Wow. Ronin’s glamour must be down, so this means this light is coming from his true face. I sat up, slowly crawling to the end of our sweat-soaked and ravaged bed, and wishing to move closer still. Ronin’s amazing. He’s so wonderful, so beautiful, so generous, and so kind. Thinking about it, I do owe him for saving my life more than once.
Okay, he was a little rough yesterday, and he tricked me into a terrible and degrading bond on the penalty of my sister being subjected to something horrible at the claws of Pravat, Bruno, and Kazuya, but wasn’t that my fault? If only I hadn’t denied him when he offered the first time. If only—
The light winked out.
Setting down the mirror, Ronin was his normal, heartbreakingly handsome self once more.
I lurched back, horror leadening my bones. What the hell is wrong with me?! What was I just thinking? It’s my fault? Ronin’s kind and wonderful? Have I lost my freaking mind!
“Ahh, you’re awake.” Ronin padded over, and my anger compounded even more.
Even with the glamour, Ronin was sinfully gorgeous in every single dangerous, tempting way. He hadn’t bothered to put clothes on or cover himself, so there was nowhere for me to look but at the hard, corded muscle rippling down every inch of his body.
He still had my blood on his cock from the blowjobs, and even more on his chest from when he bit me in the heat of chain orgasms and broke the skin. On anyone else, the blood smears would be grotesque, but on Ronin Belphe, it was war paint. War for my obedience, body, and soul.
A war he won.
Leaning over the bed, Ronin tore the blankets off me without so much as a how do you do. “Hmm, looks like you’re all healed up.”
He didn’t ask how, because he obviously already knew. In that moment, I realized with complete certainty that Ronin never had to do any of this. He didn’t need to propose the sub bond, give me the phone, order his buddies to attack me, threaten Dora, or make me degrade and debase myself on my knees.
All Ronin Belphe ever had to do was show me his true face... and I’d have done whatever he asked of me—twice.
Smirking, Ronin caressed my jaw—possession bleeding from the touch. “Shall we go again?”
Sitting up, I looked him in the eyes, grabbed the glass of water on the side table, and threw it in his face.
Ronin snapped back—likely from surprise more than anything else. I was snatching up the blankets and walking away before he recovered.
“Oops,” he said mildly, chuckling. “I guess that’s a no to round twenty-three.”
I slammed the door on his laughter, my body flush with rage from head to toe.
I HELD TIGHT TO DORA’S hand, leading her out into Ronin’s empty room, and then into the hallway. Again I scanned the hall left to right to make sure Ronin wasn’t anywhere to be found. I don’t know why I expected him to wait behind and walk with us, but I was relieved he didn’t.
“Muriel, are you okay?” Dora asked. “Did something happen?”
My throat tightened as flashes from the night and day before rushed through my mind. How could I be okay? Ronin blackmailed me into bed, pounded me like a slab of steak, and then sauntered over to me with the biggest, most victorious smirk on his lips like he’d won a fun game, instead of doing something terrible to me.