Series: The Sacrifice Series by Natasha Knight
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Only if I can have one of yours beside mine.”
“It can be arranged.” I resort to rubbing against him since he has my hand trapped.
“Needy?” His voice dips, taking on that growly quality that implodes my ovaries every damn time.
“Yes,” I whine.
“Good.” He grabs my head, holding me in place while he kisses me until I’m breathless. Then he leaves me lying there in a stupor when he releases me. “You can think about that while we’re out today because when we get back tonight, I’m going to fuck you into a coma.”
His words send sparks through my nerve endings, and I stare up at him in protest as he rises from the bed, his rigid cock on display.
“Or you could just do that now,” I suggest.
“I had no idea my wife was so greedy.” He smirks. “I should impregnate you more often.”
There’s something seriously wrong with me because that only manages to make me even more desperate. I don’t know if he’s right that it’s the pregnancy hormones or if I’ve just become an insatiable little beast, but either way, I don’t care.
“Good idea,” I say. “Let’s start now.”
“I think I recall you mentioning you needed to be fed,” he muses.
“Who needs food?” I shrug. “It can wait.”
He leans down, pulls me upright, and tips my face toward his. “You can have your fill of me tonight. But for now, I need you well cared for so you can keep up with me.”
The sentiment is oddly sweet, and my stomach rumbles again on cue, cementing the deal.
“Fine,” I relent. “This kid of yours is proving to be pretty demanding.”
He offers me a lazy smile. “You say this as if it’s a surprise. Just wait until you have three of my little monsters running amok.”
His words slip out unbidden as if he’s considered the very thought, and it produces equal amounts of hope and dread within me. When he looks at me again, I can see that he knows it too.
“Come, Little Witch. Let me wash you.”
When Azrael said he’d wash me, he should have known that it was inevitable. I came alive for him with every reverent brush of his fingers, and soon, I won the battle. He fucked me up against the shower wall until I truly was on the verge of passing out. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to have so many orgasms in one day, but he was proving not only that it was possible but that he could still leave me wanting more.
However, he had other plans he was determined to see through. So, I dragged my boneless body along beside him out to the street, where a valet already had his car waiting for us.
It was impossible to miss the guards that followed behind us as we drove, but their presence didn’t seem to ease the tension creeping into Azrael’s features.
“Is all of that for Caleb?” I ask.
His fingers grip the steering wheel harder, and he shakes his head. “Not just Caleb.”
“The Disciples?” I venture a guess. “There aren’t that many of them here. I think you and Emmanuel probably annihilated at least half of them.”
He glances at me across the car, and I don’t like the expression that darkens his face. “They have more in other cities.”
“They’ve never bothered to get involved before,” I say. “Even during the trial, they didn’t harass me or my family. It was only the locals who delivered Caleb’s messages while he was in prison. I don’t see why they would risk their necks now.”
Azrael doesn’t answer, and I know it’s because he’s hiding something.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Willow, let’s discuss this later—”
“No.”
He tosses me a reproving glance. “Nothing good can come of talking about him today.”
“I don’t care.” I glare at him. “I’m your wife, and if you want me to trust you, then you need to be honest with me. This has been my life for six years, long before you ever came into it. I don’t need you to handle me with kid gloves. I know how dangerous Caleb is. But if there’s something else you aren’t telling me—”
“It isn’t just Caleb,” he interrupts. “It’s Alfred Noyes. Caleb has won back his favor. He convinced the Disciples that I was the one who killed Frederick, and I have sources who tell me they’ve been gathering.”
I lean back against my seat, allowing his words to sink in, and a fresh wave of terror grips me as I consider that it isn’t just me they want. They want Azrael too. I wasn’t expecting such a visceral reaction to that, but the thought of losing him, of anything happening to him, terrifies me.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He reaches across the seat to take my hand in his. “I’ll protect you, Willow. You don’t need to worry about that. Caleb will never touch you again. I meant that the first time I said it.”