Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
When he moves, a soft heat rocks me too, and I bite my lip, trying to stay quiet, because we’re in the middle of the forest, and I want him to finish on my skin, not fight off bears.
“So good. You feel so good,” I whisper, hugging him with one arm and wrapping my legs around him. He makes me feel tiny, and for once, that’s not a bad thing.
His rock-hard cock slides over my skin, and I swear it’s even hotter than it used to be. It pulses with his need to come, and I give myself to him, hoping he will never bore of me. That I shall always remain the center of his universe. His movements are fast, jerky, and I can’t wait for the next time we have a more sensible, private place so he can thrust like that into me.
The friction between our bodies is exquisite, and while it’s becoming uncomfortable, the burn enhances our pleasure, and I squeeze Hawk’s meaty pec with one hand, causing him to shiver and speed up. He stares straight at me and breathes through his teeth, as if he’s already thinking about the things he wants to do to me next time.
“Mine. Tell me you’re mine.”
One look into those black depths, and I fall in. Or do I leap? The endless darkness in his eyes doesn’t scare me in the slightest. I run straight in, welcoming its embrace.
“Yours. Forever yours. Yours to love, yours to fuck, yours to come in.” I’m breathless all over again as I drag my nails down his pec, on the verge of scratching my way into his heart.
His black eyes appear glossier now, and he thrusts against me hard and fast, fueling himself with my words. “Yes. Fuck. We’re in this together. I’ve got you,” he finishes with a hiss, and liquid heat erupts on my skin.
I glance between us, greedy to see the next spurt of cum land on my stomach, but I also want to see his handsome face flushed with ecstasy. His brows are gathered, and a drop of blood rolls down his chin from where he chewed through his own flesh.
“Am I yours, or are you mine?” I murmur, licking it off.
He laughs, releasing a beautiful, raspy sound. “I might call you mine, but really it’s you who has me,” he tells me before resting his head on my chest as he catches his breath.
We rest in each other’s arms, happy to be alive, appreciating that we have one another. I eventually reach inside my bag for the only disposable piece of cloth I have—my handkerchief with the Goldweed crest. I clean us with it, because we should get going, whichever direction we choose.
Am I disrespecting my family name? Maybe a little.
But it no longer matters.
Chapter 32
Hawk
Loud panicked shrieks scratch at my brain as we approach the steep cliffs towering over the sea. Jagged rocks hang over water so dark it might just be squid ink, but the dramatic scenery doesn’t help me ignore the calls for help coming from the River of Souls.
We’ve left the Nocturne Court behind us, but since the nearest city where we can regroup lies farther along the shore of Grief Ocean, Sylvan decided we ought to follow the coastal path. We travel through the woods, of course, to minimize the chance that the glow of my animalistic form attracts unwanted attention, but apparently the harbor close to the palace is the sole port in dozens of miles and the coastline itself is sparsely populated, due to the activity of dangerous sea creatures.
According to Sylvan, we should encounter more people once we travel past the Hannal Straits, but while we will have to survive on simple travel rations and make do without a warm bed until then, at least we won’t have to worry about being hunted down.
Then again, my pretty prince won’t need a bed, since he has my soft warm fur to sleep on. He’s currently enjoying a ride on my back, and I swell with pride that I can provide that for him without effort. He did his best during the three-day trek through the swamps, but his legs are short, and therefore, covering large distances costs him way more effort than it does someone my size.
Being able to change into a different creature still feels like a dream. Like the werewolves from Twilight—No. I’m not like the werewolves from Twilight. Then again, what do I know? I only watched the movie because one of the guards in prison was obsessed with it and brought us a copy. It beat staring at a wall for three hours.
Sylvan’s upset about losing the mask and my shadow, but I’m rather excited about all the things I’m discovering about this new form. My senses have sharpened, I don’t get cold, like, at all, and ended up lending Sylvan my coat, because the harsh coastal winds no longer bother me. I expected the drawback of ripping my clothes every time I grow, the Sunwolf form, but it seems to grow around me somehow, which leaves them intact.