Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Ignoring the ache in her throat, Wynter swallowed. “Well, that’s . . .” Dammit, she got all choked up and awkward and flustered. She’d never be good with expressing how she felt, or at handling hearing how deeply he felt for her. And she could tell that, sensing her struggle, he really wanted to laugh right now. Asshole.
As she suddenly remembered something he’d said before, she frowned. “Hold on a sec, you realized you love me, but you ‘forgot’ to tell me? How? How does one forget that?”
“Perhaps ‘one’ was waiting for the right moment.” He bit her bottom lip as he withdrew from her body. Rolling them both onto their sides so that they faced each other, he added, “Now here’s where you give me the words back.”
“You’ve already heard them many times.”
“I want to hear them again.”
“So spoilt.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I love you.”
“I hope for both our sakes that you never stop, because I will still keep you here. In chains, if necessary.”
She sighed. “What is it with you and chains?”
“Why are you so opposed to them?” He cupped her pussy but didn’t stroke her, as if he just wanted to hold her that way. “Being a sexual captive wouldn’t be so bad.”
Yeah, in Hattie’s world. “It wouldn’t be anywhere near as exciting for you as you seem to think. I would make a terrible captive. Defiant. Bitchy. Totally uncooperative—”
“All of which would give me reason to punish you.” He hummed. “I do like to punish you on occasion.”
“Yeah, well, I’d also do whatever it took to get free, and kill whoever stood in my way—including you.” She probably shouldn’t have been surprised at how heat flared in his eyes. “God, you’re so weird.”
“Now really, little witch, are you in a position to be throwing stones like that?” he teased, sliding his hand from her pussy up to palm her breast. “You come back from the dead. You host one of the Rephaim. You gave yourself to the son of Satan. And you lead a coven of people who wouldn’t know ‘sane’ if it skewered them with a sword.”
“What’s your point?”
His lips hiking up, he kissed her. “Would you prefer if we pretend I don’t have one?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I would.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Back to what we were speaking of before . . . So, being chained up would truly be a problem for you?”
She made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat.
“I’d make sure they weren’t made of iron. You wouldn’t have to worry that they’d weaken you.”
“Oh, well that changes things.”
“Does it?”
“Honestly? Honestly, no.” She held up her hand. “Chains are out. And don’t think I don’t know you’re enjoying how huffy and frowny this topic makes me.”
He smiled. “Of course I enjoy it. Why else would I keep bringing up the subject?” Releasing her breast, he slipped his hand further down to palm her ass. “It’s as if you still sometimes forget that fucking with your head makes me hard.”
She exhaled a long breath. “I guess there are worse kinks.”
Epilogue
Khloë Wallis jerked back from the toddler in her arms, evading the little hands that struggled to grip her throat. “Dammit, kid, what is your problem?” Demons didn’t need to morally contend with the concept of killing, not even as children. But this young, they generally didn’t attempt to mindlessly murder whoever they came across. “If you really want to kill someone, there are quicker ways than strangling them. For instance—”
“No,” Devon cut in on the park bench beside her.
Khloë blinked at her friend. “What?”
“Do not corrupt my daughter with your messed-up imp ways.”
“Imps are not messed up.”
Devon took Anaïs into her arms, her green gaze still on Khloë. “So you’d call them sane? Really?”
“And you’d call a hellcat mating a hellhound sane?” Khloë shot back. “See, this here is what happens when you go mixing breeds that aren’t supposed to produce offspring together. Shit goes wrong. Psychopaths are born. Deaths soon after follow.”
“Anaïs is not a psychopath. And she doesn’t try to kill people, she just plays rough. She . . . what’s the matter, baby?” Devon asked the hellpup as she melted into her mom’s chest with a scared whimper.
Khloë tracked the path of Anaïs’ gaze to see a couple stood a few feet away. A very pretty dark-haired woman sighed up at a hot-as-fuck dude who looked the epitome of bored.
“You don’t like the place, do you?” the woman asked him.
He spared her a quick look. “It’s . . . not unbearable.”
A snort. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said about anywhere we’ve been. I kind of thought that Vegas would be a hit with you.” Exhaling heavily, she lifted her hands. “I’m just gonna take a wild guess here and assume that you aren’t all too enamored with the wider world so far.”