Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I regret that terribly now, not knowing what’s in store for me.
With a wicked grin, he widens his stance slightly, letting me watch even as he offers me a hand. I look at his proffered hand, so huge and manly with that dusting of dark hair.
It’s a clever move. Taking it will mean I give him my consent. He’s making sure that I’m making the choice, that I won’t be able to accuse him later of forcing me.
And if I don’t take his hand, he may call me a coward again.
He wouldn’t be wrong. That’s what I feel like. A coward. And I’ve been many things throughout my life, but never a coward.
Slowly, I reach out and place my hand in his, even as the same duality I sense in him—wanting something so badly it aches, and hating it for that reason—wars inside me.
Approval flashes in his eyes, but it doesn’t warm me like the appreciation of someone who loves me. He’s merely praising me for doing something he wants me to do.
I cling to that thought, reminding myself that we’re not doing this because we actually give a damn about one another. It’s vital that I protect myself if I’m to make it out of this mess with my mind and heart intact.
He pulls me close enough for our bodies to touch. The heat of his skin scorches me through the layers of my clothes. No matter how hard I focus on the negative aspects of what we’re about to do, all those notions are incinerated once there’s no longer any distance between us.
I can feel his power. It buzzes in a low hum, stoking mine to life. It’s like the soft purr of a big cat. Of an alpha lion. On the one hand, it’s soothing, and on the other, it’s making me so jittery with dormant but explosive energy that it feels as if a shot of espresso has been injected straight into my bloodstream.
The hum penetrates my breastbone. For some reason, he’s persistent, using this trick on me until we’re buzzing in tandem. It’s like being tipsy without the alcohol.
When I give over to that feeling, he undresses me, starting with the boots. The pants follow next. Then the shirt. And then I’m naked, because they don’t bother with underwear here.
He cups my head and tilts back my face, swooping down to press a kiss on my neck. He follows it up with a gentle bite that makes me gasp with pleasure. The kisses he plants on the column of my neck cause shiver after shiver to trickle down my spine. Goosebumps run over my arm when he sucks my earlobe into his mouth and whispers something about a promise in my ear.
A promise to make it good. Like a bandage on a cut before the blade has nicked the skin.
But I can hardly concentrate on his words or their meaning while he’s palming my breasts in his gigantic hands, kneading them until they feel swollen and heavy.
The world gives way from under my feet. He’s scooped me up into his arms. The room passes in a blur. Somewhere in the middle of the floor, our discarded clothes lie in two heaps like wilted flowers. The harsh white light of day washes through the window, unlike the soft, forgiving beams of the moon. There’s no evening breeze to cool the heat mounting under my skin, no darkness to hide the unwanted emotions on my face—the lust, the ecstasy, the defeat, and the bitterness. The ever-present, unfading anger. But his kisses are sweet, and that static hum of power that reaches out to the power inside me is calming.
My back hits a cool, silky surface—the sheets of his bed. I sink into the softness, the weight of Aruan’s body pinning me down. Like before, it’s a comfortable weight. He keeps himself up on his elbows while he goes back to kissing me. His movements are tender and seductive, coaxing me into opening not only my lips for him but also my legs.
He lifts my arms above my head and secures them firmly on the mattress by shackling my wrists in the strong grip of his hands. Once I’m securely bound, he moves down my body and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I arch my back, begging for more. The tip hardens on his tongue. He does something with his teeth that has me crying out. The sound invites his praise. I’m not cognizant of what he’s saying. I’m too focused on the sensations he provokes as he teases me so wickedly with his tongue and his teeth.
He transfers both my wrists into one large hand and slides the other between my legs. I jerk when he touches my folds. I’m so wet my arousal is slick on my thighs. This earns me more praise and a louder purr of power that emanates from his chest.