Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“Polite? How very kind of you.” I gather all my hair in my hand and pull it over my left shoulder so it’s ready to wring out, then hit the lever with my foot to start draining the tub, trying to focus anywhere but on him and that incredible body he insists on walking around in.
“And do you feel recovered?” His voice lowers.
“A little exposed after being interrogated about my intelligence and my love life, but otherwise fine.” Reaching to the right, I grab the soft white towel I left on the little bench as the water empties with a gurgle, then turn my back to Xaden and stand, quickly wrapping the towel around me.
“You’re fine,” he repeats. “Not dizzy. Not sore. Not tired? Because we just flew all last night.”
“I’m not sure I want to go climb the Gauntlet or anything”—I lean left, wringing my hair out over the tub—“but yes, I’m feeling as good as it gets.” Clean, fed, and ready to curl up with the man I love.
“Good,” he says against my ear, and I gasp with surprise as he grabs hold of my waist and turns me to face him. “Because I’m done being polite.”
His mouth crashes into mine.
The most useless word in the language of aristocracy has always been and will forever be: love. Marriage is a necessary evil to secure the line. Nothing more. Save love for your children.
—Confiscated Correspondence of Fen Riorson to Unknown Intended Recipient
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Iabandon my towel and my common sense, throwing my arms around his neck and pouring my whole heart into the kiss. Who cares if we’re in a house full of servants and a viscount I don’t trust? If Xaden has set sexual limits between us the last six weeks? He’s kissing me like I’m the only air he can breathe, and that’s all that matters—all that I can allow to matter.
My wet feet slip on the tile, and then there’s nothing beneath them as I’m lifted to his chest. The sensation of my bare breasts against his damp skin makes me gasp around his tongue.
He groans, holding me with one hand under my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist. I nudge his towel straight to the floor before locking my ankles, leaving us skin to skin as he kisses me senseless, robbing me of logic and replacing it with pure want.
Our mouths collide again and again without finesse or seduction. There’s no flirtation or coy games here. No, it’s all hunger and blatant, naked demand. It’s fucking perfect, unrestrained, and absolutely greedy.
The room moves, or maybe that’s us. Either way, the lighting changes, and I find myself perched on the edge of the small breakfast table a few feet from the bedroom window. I rip my mouth from his to scan our surroundings, but Xaden cups my chin and pulls me right back.
“No one can see at this angle. I checked,” he promises, then goes right back to kissing me, wiping every protest out of my head with the indulgent stroke of his tongue.
Wait. He checked. He’s thought about this.
Oh gods, this might actually happen.
Heat and need rush through me, bringing every nerve to blaring life. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been six weeks since I’ve had all of him above me, below me, within me—it seems like it’s been years.
He winds my wet hair around his hand, then tugs my head backward gently, breaking the kiss and setting his lips to my throat. Every touch of his lips sends a jolt of yes straight down my spine, and they quickly gather into an aching knot of please right between my thighs.
My nails rake into his hair and I arch for more, whimpering softly when he delivers, toying with me expertly. He uses his firm lips, soft tongue, and rough stubble to their every advantage, until I’m pretty sure he could get me off by just kissing my neck.
“I love your skin,” he says, working his way down to my collarbone. “You’re so damned soft.”
My pulse jumps and my hands drift to the strong line of his shoulders, touching every inch of his warm skin that I can reach. I want to lay him down on that bed and lick every single line that he’s kept hidden away from me for the last six weeks, but there’s no way I’m going to chance him stopping this for a change of position.
He abandons my hair, then brings both hands to cup my breasts. I suck in a swift breath when he lowers his mouth to one peak and then uses his tongue and teeth to worship it. Holy shit does that feel good. My body is positively starved for his touch, and it’s all I can do to stifle a flat-out moan when he moves to the other.