Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Dirt crunches beneath his feet as he shifts, caught off guard, maybe.
And my dick twitches.
Fuck. Why do I love being the reason he stumbles?
I’m starting to get addicted.
I want more of these unmasked reactions and his raw body language.
More.
Fucking more.
“That’s right, little monster.” I let my lips pull into a smile. “We’re the same, you and I. Whatever humans are made of, you and I share that form.”
“I share nothing with you.” His voice is quieter, but he steps away, removing the arrow that drips with my blood. “Just get the fuck out of my life.”
Then he turns around, probably to keep playing hunt or, worse, to protect Cherry.
His first mistake was turning his back on me.
The second was making me watch that scene from earlier.
I get up and run after him, the adrenaline suppressing the pain caused by the rubber arrows and the graze on my chest.
To his credit, Carson starts to turn around and lifts his bow, but it’s too late.
I grab the back of his neck and slam him against the tree, and then whisper in his ear, “You really should’ve killed me when you had the chance, baby.”
And then I bite the lobe that blonde was sucking on. Hard.
9
GARETH
Kayden is right. I should’ve killed him.
Why didn’t I do that, again?
Because I can’t prove him right. I can’t allow him to confirm any of the theories he has about me.
Not him, of all fucking people.
But that ended up with me against a tree. Trapped under him again.
Being touched by him again.
Completely surrounded by him.
Fucking again.
And he knocked my bow and quiver away, so I have nothing to stab him with.
My mask squashes against the tree, and the smell of pine floods my nostrils, but it pales in comparison to his smell.
The tones of wood and amber provoke dark, fucked-up images that visit me in my dreams.
No, nightmares.
Images of him biting and marking my flesh, making me come against his cock. Spitting cum in my mouth and forcing me to swallow.
I’ve thought of killing him every time I’ve seen the dark purple hickeys all over my chest. I even considered just hiring an outsider to do it and then sending me the footage.
But for some reason, that didn’t sound satisfying. Not as much as the fantasy of watching his blood spill on the ground.
Between my fingers.
Beneath my feet.
And I’d stand there, watching those silver eyes turn truly lifeless.
If someone is going to kill Kayden Lockwood, it has to be me.
And yet I didn’t just now.
Not that I couldn’t, because I could’ve in a heartbeat. But I made a conscious decision not to stoop that low.
However, now, I find myself under his thumb again, and I hate it, I hate that it’s this easy for him to trap me.
But what I hate more is that he has the ability to dissolve every fucking ounce of control I have.
That he can provoke reactions I didn’t know I was capable of.
After the last time, I wanted to blame the drugs, and I did, but the drugs don’t fucking explain why he keeps appearing in my damn dreams.
Or the hard-ons I wake up with on the regular after said dreams.
It’s why I decided to stay as far away as possible.
But he’s here now, right behind me. His large body pushing mine, his rock-hard chest pressing against my tense back. His fingers digging into my nape, squeezing until it hurts.
However, that’s not what’s tilting my head upside fucking down. It’s the way he’s biting the lobe of my ear. His teeth sinking so deep, I think he’ll rip the flesh off.
A ripple of pleasure starts where his lips are, coils in my spine and lands like a ball of fire in my groin.
“Stop,” I grunt, but my voice is muffled by the mask. “That hurts. Fuck.”
“Does it?” He licks the thin skin.
A jolt of electricity rushes through me, tenting my jeans against the tree trunk.
Fuck. No.
“You prefer to be licked here?” His rough voice shoots straight inside my ear and sets my skin on edge.
An uncomfortable yet thrilling edge.
It’s an edge I keep escaping but continue being pushed into anyway.
An edge that messes with my fucking head.
“You wanted my tongue all over your ear, like when Cherry did it?” He flicks his tongue on the shell.
“W-what?”
“You like this, don’t you?” He licks my lobe, nibbling slightly, then thrusts his tongue in my ear.
Sparks of electricity burst down my spine in blinding succession, and I have to bite my lip so I don’t release obscene noises.
The fuck is he doing with his tongue and teeth?
Is it even possible to be so wound up just because of my ear?
And his body pressing into mine.
And him pinning me against the tree.
And his rough voice speaking directly in my ear.
No one has ever brought out this type of intense pleasure from me.