Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
“I've been in there more times than you know,” I said. “I survive. It's what I do.”
“You cannot expect me to ignore this,” he said.
“You have to,” I said. “We can’t blow our cover now. We can't. All of this will have been for nothing and so many people will die—”
“You could have died,” he snapped, holding me tighter. “Cassandra, you could have died.” He emphasized each word, and I couldn't tell if I was imagining the pain that laced them or not.
I reached up to cup his cheek, shaking my head. “I survive,” I said again. “Please,” I said. “Stay with me.”
It might have been the most vulnerable I'd ever been with another being. That desperate plea, that for once, I would be put above a mission or some ridiculous familial bloodline duty.
I needed him to choose me over his primal instincts.
I needed him to choose my desires, my wishes, over his in that moment.
No one ever had before, so I had little confidence he would listen to me now. He was a hunter Viking god and could easily lock me in this room and do exactly what he’d threatened to do.
“Please,” I said again. “Talon. I need you to stay with me.”
A little bit of the black in his eyes ebbed, showing more of that stunning blue.
And then his mouth was on mine, his lips dominating and desperate as he kissed me.
I threw my arms around his neck, my heart racing against my chest as I shifted against him, situating my thighs on either side of his hips right there on the floor. I didn't dare break our kiss, didn't dare stop crashing against him again and again.
“Cassandra,” he said between our kiss. “Cassandra.”
My name. He kept saying my name.
Not viper. Not Cassie.
Cassandra.
He said it with such emotion, such need, that I could barely comprehend it. I could only feel this overwhelming sense of need—the need to be closer to him, to feel him and touch him and know he was real. Know that he was here with me and that I was not alone.
The need to know that someone, even if it was only a tiny amount, cared about me.
And as pathetic as that was, I didn't care.
I didn't care.
My strength returned thanks to his incredibly potent blood, and I ripped off the clothes that’d been drenched in blood from the wounds the iron created, and was thankful he was completely naked from his shift, having not even taken the time to get dressed before he healed me.
I didn’t waste time. I didn’t play or tease or toy with him. Not now.
Not in his state of mind.
This was primal.
This was instinctual.
This was a carnal need that couldn’t be ignored.
I situated myself over his hard cock and sank down, immediately joining our bodies in a rush that felt propelled by something greater than just two beings who needed completion.
I kissed him, my hands roaming over his entire body, anywhere I could reach as I rocked against him.
He was here with me. He was staying.
He was choosing me over his own need to enact vengeance on what was done and that meant more to me than I could ever explain.
So I showed him.
I showed him with my mouth and tongue and body. I worshipped this male, moving against him in ways that drove both of us crazy, our bodies clenching and greedy as we reached for each other.
“Cassandra,” he said as we reached a crescendo, the waves of pleasure cresting over and over again until we both fell over the edge at the same time.
His fangs sank into my neck, and I threw my head back, the pleasure mounting and intensifying with each deep pull he took of my essence into his mouth.
This is what heaven felt like.
This pleasurable explosion that made everything in the world align and make sense. The way we came together created this beautiful white-hot light inside me that burst into a thousand pieces of starlight beneath my skin.
I wouldn't be shocked if I looked down and I was glowing, that's how much I felt that bond between us. A bond that could be chalked up to the shifter connection he'd made at the beginning of this mission, but I didn't care. It was the most real and genuine thing I'd ever felt. And I clung to that as if my very life depended on it.
After a few moments, we separated, our bodies and souls stated. And it was only after I had asked him three times if he would be in that bed when I returned that I allowed myself to shower.
I needed to feel clean after being locked in that horrible closet, and I think he knew I needed to do that alone, but I knew he would have joined me if I'd asked. I took the solitary time underneath the hot stream of water to soap myself up, trying to mentally wrap my head around how easily I’d been overtaken.