Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
The blossoms parted, and Dr. Brandt stepped in, his massive form backlit by the glow of his own chamber. He was shirtless, his broad, muscular chest on display in the pale purple moonlight that slid through the bedroom window. His golden eyes gleamed, sharp and assessing, as he looked down at her.
“Are you all right, Alexandra?” His deep voice was serious, threaded with concern. “I heard you cry out in pain.”
“I—I’m fine,” she lied quickly, her voice trembling. She pulled the leafy covers tighter over her body, though the transparent gown beneath might as well have left her naked.
“I doubt that.”
He didn’t believe her. Of course he didn’t. He came to the side of her bed and turned on a lamp carved from glowing crystal. Its warm light bathed them both, leaving no shadows to hide in. Then he pulled back the covers with a decisive hand.
“Wait—what are you doing?” Lexi demanded, attempting without success to keep hold of the leaf sheets.
“Lie still,” he said firmly, pulling them down. “I’m going to examine you again. You are definitely showing signs of nectar fever. Also, I can tell by your scent how hot and needy you are.” He inhaled deeply and frowned.
Lexi trembled, her blush spreading from her cheeks to her chest as he parted the flimsy gown, exposing her bare breasts completely. His golden eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as his gaze raked over her.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Such a lovely little Elite.”
Lexi’s breath caught in her chest. Natalie had told her once that the Kindred called women with especially full curves Elites. They were considered rare and desirable.
Did Dr. Brandt really think she was beautiful? Or was this just another one of his clinical observations, like commenting on nectar output?
Does he actually want me? Or is this just research?
She had no idea, the questions swirled in her mind as she bit her lip, heart pounding. She didn’t know what scared her more—the possibility that he didn’t want her…or the possibility that he did.
12
BRANDT
Brandt sat at the edge of the mossy bed, looking down at Alexandra. The lamplight painted her curves in soft gold, her bare breasts rising and falling with every shaky breath. Gods, she was beautiful. Too beautiful. It was wrong to think this way about her…wrong to feel the tug of desire in his chest and groin. He had sworn never again to call a bride.
This is for science. For her health. Nothing more, he told himself, trying to excuse it.
But when she looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes, her lips trembling, his resolve weakened. She was flushed…restless and her thighs were pressed together as though to hide the ache between them. Every tiny movement of her body spoke of need—of a desperate sexual hunger. The poor little human was starving to death and he had given her nothing but crumbs.
Her voice, breathless and uncertain, broke into his thoughts.
“Are…are you going to suck me again? I mean, suck my nipples?”
“Yes.” His tone was low and steady, though his heart hammered in his chest. “I think I should. Let’s see how your nectar production is coming along.”
He bent over her, closing his lips around one tight peak, sucking deep. Her taste filled his mouth instantly—sweet and rich as the nectar flowed. Alexandra cried out, her back arching, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders. Nectar gushed against his tongue, delicious and warm and sweet as honey.
He swallowed, licking her nipple with a slow drag of his tongue before pulling back.
“Good. You’re producing well. By morning you should be ready to be milked.”
“By morning?” She squirmed, her breasts quivering with each breath. “But I can’t wait…I mean…I’m hurting now.”
Brandt frowned, watching her shift on the mossy mattress.
“Hurting where, little Lexi?”
Her cheeks flamed. She moved her hips, thighs parting slightly.
“Here,” she whispered, so softly he almost didn’t catch it.
Heat stirred low in Brandt’s groin. He lowered himself to his knees between her thighs.
“Is your soft little pussy in pain, Alexandra? Do you need me to examine you again?” he murmured.
Her blush deepened, but she nodded.
“I…I think so.”
“All right,” he said gently. “Part your thighs for me. Let me see you.”
She trembled but obeyed, spreading herself open and Brandt allowed his gaze to drop, drinking her in.
Her folds glistened with her own juices, swollen and needy. Her little pussy was so ripe for fucking it made him ache.
His cock throbbed, straining against his trousers.
She’s perfect. So wet…so ready for me.
He reached out, but she flinched away before he could touch her.
“Wait! I…I tried to touch myself earlier,” she admitted, shame flooding her cheeks with pink. “But it hurt so much. I…I think I’m too sensitive.”
“I see.” Brandt nodded. Poor little Elite. This was his fault—he had left her too long. He should have checked her more thoroughly before going to bed.