Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
I groan, and she gasps, rocking against me in a slow, torturous stroke that has my entire body buzzing.
I draw all the way out of her, watching her face as I pump into her again and again, slow and deliberate, every thrust a promise, every connection binding us together.
“Z,” she gasps, trembling beneath me as I hold our bodies flush, barely a breath of space between us. “Bite me,” she says, turning her head to the side.
I go harder inside her, my fangs aching at her words. “Talia,” I say, hesitant. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she says, eyes on mine as I continue to thrust into her. “Please. Zachariah. I’m aching. Burning. I need you.”
“You have me.” I lean down, kissing the soft skin of her neck, slowing my pace inside her, ensuring my pelvic bone grinds against her needy little clit before I sink my fangs into her neck.
“Z!” she cries out, her pussy clenching hard around my cock as her blood fills my mouth, the taste unlike anything else in the world—sweet and unique like vanilla and lavender. I drink her down, pumping into her harder now, faster, my instincts driving me to seal the bond I can feel building between us. “I’m coming,” she breathes the words, her pussy fluttering around my cock—
Her fangs sink into my arm next to her head, the pleasure-filled bite sending lava straight through my veins. I lick her wounds closed, drawing back for a sharp breath at the sensation of her bite.
“Fuck yes,” I growl, pumping into her fast and hard, my release barreling through me as hers builds again, the two of us coming at the same time, until I spill inside her, hot and heady.
She keeps drinking as she convulses, going absolutely liquid for me as she drenches my sheets, and I rock her through it. When she’s drank her fill, she pulls back, licking my wounds closed and looking at me with lust-slaked eyes.
I smooth her hair back, dipping down to kiss her softly.
I love you.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them back. She let me bite her, make love to her in a bed, signaling that she trusts me. I don’t want to scare her by uttering the words desperate to be claimed.
Instead, I relish the happy little sigh that leaves her mouth as I gently pull out of her, hurrying to clean us up before returning to bed and holding her against my chest.
“I never want to leave this bed,” she mumbles sleepily against my chest.
I smile down at her. “You don’t have to,” I say. “But I do have Conclave in a couple of hours.”
She clings to me a bit tighter at that statement. “Wake me when you have to go,” she says, barely audible as she drifts off to sleep, her even breathing signaling to me just how exhausted she is. Shifting from panic to what we just did can do that to the body, so I certainly understood.
But two hours later, as I gently shift from beneath her and dress for Conclave, I do no such thing to wake her. She needs her rest, and I want her in my bed when I return.
I want my mate.
Whether she wants to acknowledge that’s what she is or not.
CHAPTER 18
Talia
My eyes are heavy as I jolt awake, the fog clearing seconds after I sit straight up in bed, my heart pounding, something inside of me solidifying so sharply that tears come to my eyes.
It takes me a moment to remember where I am, the smell of Zachariah cocooning me as I look around his chambers. I'm alone in his bed, and I blow out a breath remembering that he’d gone to Conclave.
His departure isn't what woke me though. I know that in my bones.
I'm almost terrified to look down, despite what I feel connected and strong and thriving inside of me.
A tether to Zachariah, one that is unclouded and unburied. One that I can feel right now, with him on the other end of it at Conclave, content and peaceful and calm.
I glance down at my left wrist.
“Fuck me,” I mutter out loud, my heart racing at the sight of the once faded mating mark now fully visible in whorls of black ink against my delicate skin.
Zachariah’s mating mark.
My once-upon-a-time-mate has now become my present mate, my stupid, traitorous heart giving itself to him, offering itself up on a silver fucking planner.
Earlier tonight, I'd been terrified that I'd lost him, that notion overtaking every other logical thought in my mind as I took him in this bed, made love to him, bit him, and allowed him to bite me.
I love this male more than I've ever loved anything, but that doesn’t immediately wash away the terror I feel at the thought of being heartbroken again. Can I trust him enough to feel secure? Trust him to never push me away again for the sake of a mission? Trust that he’ll never again make choices for us under the guise of being in my best interest?