Taken by the Alpha King Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
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“No. I’m merely saying that because…” he moves to kneel between my legs and strokes himself again. “When the potion releases you from its hold… every single climax you’ve been denied…you’ll feel all off them, all at once.”

Fear lances through me. I’ll die. I know I will. The pleasure will be too keen. It will tear me apart.

“And that should be…” he murmurs, pressing the head of his cock against my opening, “right about now.”

I open my mouth to ask him how he knows, but all that comes out is a howl that grows louder, shriller, as he thrusts deep and stays there, erupting inside me as every nerve in body ignites. He roars with his release as I scream through mine. I’m not sure if it’s pleasure I feel; whatever it is, it robs me of my senses until all I hear is the rush of my blood, all I see are bursts of hot white light. My legs wind around Nathan’s back, holding him to me, and he batters me again and again with his still hard cock, cursing and grunting.

“I don’t want to stop fucking you,” he groans.

“Don’t!” I shout, jerking at the cuffs that still restrain my arms.

And he doesn’t; he pounds into me until he’s as sweat slick as I am, until his breath bellows out of him from exertion.

And the whole time, I plunge into the abyss, over and over again, recovering from one orgasm for only seconds before drowning in another. I rise up to meet his thrusts, swear at him and demand, “harder!” and “faster!” despite his guttural shouts. He must be in agony, his oversensitive flesh trapped in my sopping, squeezing cunt.

Good.

“Don’t stop,” I chant, over and over, because he deserves whatever torture he’s feeling, after the way he tormented me. He never goes soft, and suddenly, with a grunt of surprise, he drives as deep as he can and his body shudders over me. The hot burst as he fills my pussy again triggers my last climax. I throw my head back and shriek, gripping the cord that restrains me, and my body flails against his.

When I come down, he slowly withdraws from me, an obscene gush following him.

“I told you that you’d need the towel,” he chuckles, and leans up to unfasten my cuffs.

I weakly flip him off.

I lay there in a puddle until he moves the towel, dabbing me with a dry corner. I can’t move to cover myself. I can’t move to do anything.

He leaves the bed and returns with a thick duvet. He spreads it over me and slides beneath, pulling my limp body against his side.

I don’t resist him. He’s hot and I’m suddenly so cold.

“How long?” I whisper because my throat is impossibly dry. I would ask for water, but I don’t want to sit up to drink it.

“Hmm?” Nathan is already nearly asleep.

“How long was…that?” It seems like the sun should be coming up any time now.

“An hour, maybe.” He chuckles sleepily. “I said I’d make the most of the night. Not that I’d use up most of the night.”

“I—”

“Shh,” he orders. “You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

My eyelids barely peel open before I remember where I am. Nearly naked, in the king’s bed, barely covered by a corner of the duvet.

And my best friend is giving me a very judgmental look.

I scramble to sit up, holding the duvet to my chest.

“Funny meeting you here,” she says with a wry lift of her eyebrow. She tosses me a robe; it matches the nightgown that I’m still kind-of wearing below my tits and above my waist.

I tug the spaghetti straps over my shoulders before I drop the duvet and pull the robe around me. “Mind your own business. That’s an order as your queen, not your friend.”

She smirks and says nothing. For the moment. I know she’s never going to drop this.

“There’s breakfast in your sitting room. Light stuff. I know how your stomach gets,” she says, and hands me an envelope. “The king sends you this.”

I look around; there’s no sign of Nathan at all. I glance toward the bedside table and the vial of evil potion is no longer there.

At least, he cleaned up the sex stuff before Hannah came to wake me.

I slip my nail under the pretentious black wax seal and read the message inside.

Bailey—

I know that you hate me for my indiscretions. I know that you want what I am not willing to give you. But I do care about you. I believe that with you at my side, we will be the leaders this pack needs. We can surmount the coming challenges.

I wonder at that; are there new problems arising that I don’t know about? Is the state of the pack far worse than I’m aware?


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