Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
The cat spared her owner an aloof glance, rubbing herself against Emberlyn.
Sera fisted her hands. ‘What have you done?’
‘The same thing I could do to the familiar of every witch in this hall if I so pleased. Familiars aren’t mere animals,’ Emberlyn told Kerr, her tone conversational. ‘They are guardian spirits in animal form. They come to serve, guide and protect the descendants of the first coven. Descendants of Lilith are their particular favorites. If called on by who they believe to be her strongest living progeny, they’ll go to that witch’s aid.’
In other words, Emberlyn could call every familiar to her and keep them up in her manor should she so wish. As the truth of that hit the hall, a hush fell over the coven; their expressions ranging from shock and alarm to displeasure and apprehension.
As for Ripper’s clan, they were grinning in amusement, looking quite impressed. Aside from CeCe, her friends and Neal – they were all stone-faced.
Reena pressed a finger to her temple, clearly stressed. ‘Sera, leave. Do not say anything else, just leave.’
Her niece gaped. Spluttered. Scoffed. She looked to Tyra, as if for backup, but the redhead didn’t meet her gaze. None of the other witches did either, not even Penelope. Realizing she had no support here, Sera cursed and scooted to the end of the bench. Sparing Emberlyn a withering look, she then indignantly marched out of the hall.
Emberlyn carefully placed Bessie in her purse, upon which point the feline disappeared.
‘So many outbursts here tonight, Reena,’ Shane remarked. ‘No wonder there’s a rebellious faction within your coven. You have little control over your witches.’
‘Agreed,’ said Ripper. ‘I doubt we’d otherwise be having this meeting.’
Reena shifted in her seat. ‘As I said before, I will identify and deal with whoever is responsible for these crimes.’
‘And as we made clear before,’ Carver put in, ‘the clans will also be looking into this.’
Reena stiffened. ‘It is my right to punish my own.’
‘Only if you find them first,’ said Shane. ‘So you had better hope that you do.’
Ripper let his gaze touch on every witch in the crowd. ‘No Rabid will again be used, and no further moves will be made against Emberlyn Vautier,’ he asserted, menace heavy in his voice once again. ‘By all means hold onto whatever grudge you bear, but keep it at that. Or risk my clan coming down on your head. Though I’d imagine that what we do to you will be nothing compared to what she’ll do.’
Shane stood. ‘This meeting is now over.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ripper grunted as she took him deeper, making his cock touch the back of her throat. Fuck. He bunched her hair in his hand, the silky feel of it like cool water against his fingers. ‘Your mouth was made for this.’
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Emberlyn flicked her fuck-drunk gaze up to his. The sight made molten lust punch him right in the gut, basic and fierce.
He was letting her set the pace for now, enjoying the show. She was deliciously naked, every inch of her bared for his view as he sank into the hot wet cavern of her mouth over and over.
Every breath he took felt filled with her. The scent of her need infused the air. It was pure bait, a siren’s call. The taste of her was even better – it sat on his tongue, warm and sweet with magick.
Only minutes ago he’d shoved her onto his bed, dropped to his knees at the foot of it and eaten her out until she’d screamed. He’d then stood upright and snapped open his fly . . . at which point she’d knifed up, fisted his cock and taken it into her mouth.
Who was he to object?
As he stared down at her, a wave of ownership washed over him. He loved watching her blow him. There was no artifice with her. No practiced movements. No script she followed. No technique she consistently used.
Emberlyn just did whatever she felt like doing in that moment – always so tuned in to his reactions, always so easily anticipating what he wanted.
She was dangerously addicting, but he didn’t care. At all. He only ever wanted more.
His hand flexed in her hair as she tongued the sensitive spot beneath the crown. She closed her mouth around him again, sucked even harder than before . . . and, shit, his witch knew her way around a blowjob.
He did that a lot now. Called her ‘his witch’ in his head. Which he partly blamed his clan for.
Since the town meeting a few days ago, many of his wolves often referred to her as ‘Ripper’s witch’. With the exception of the obvious few, they liked Emberlyn. Respected her strength. More, they liked her for him.
Nails dragged down his bare chest and navel, leaving prickly trails of heat. She rubbed the flat of her tongue along the underside of his shaft and swallowed more of him. Fuck. Okay, he was done with letting her set the pace.