Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry—I’ll be back,” I promise.
Drawing my robe around me, I go to my Ritual Room and find the Thornheart Grimoire already on the altar. I knew it would be waiting for me—it appears when it feels my need.
Of course I must feed it a drop of blood or a tear to make it open. Tonight I have no need to prick my finger. I simply bow my head and let a tear fall on its leather binding.
It groans and droplets of black blood form around its edges as the pages part, but it opens exactly to the spell I need.
Some spells call for special ingredients—some only need emotion. The Grimoire has offered me the latter, for which I’m grateful—I want to get back to my Paladin quickly.
I read over the spell and then speak it aloud, pouring all the horror and sorrow I saw in Alaric’s dream and all my caring into every line. The more emotion, the stronger the spell and I’m filled with feelings right now.
“Now in this my darkest hour,
Fill me with the healing power.
Let me take away the pain,
Let the evil memories wane.”
As the words leave my lips, I feel the spell working on me. My breasts are suddenly fuller and my nipples are tight. Good—I’ll be able to heal him now.
I climb back into bed and Alaric’s arms slip around me at once. I don’t know why or how the Binding I did on him worked so well but I have to admit I’ve never felt such a strong connection with any of my other servants or partners. Even when Kraven and I did a hand-fasting to seal our Blood-partnership I felt nothing like the deep emotion flowing between me and my Paladin.
“Don’t leave me again.” His voice is low and rough. “And don’t send me to that fucking bed on the floor. I need to be close to you tonight.”
“You will be,” I promise him. “Here…come put your head in my lap.”
It takes some doing but I get us situated the way I want. I’m leaning against the padded headboard again and he’s got his head in my lap, as I requested.
“What’s this for?” he asks, looking up at me.
“I need to heal you of your dream—take the power away so it hopefully won’t return,” I tell him. “Here…” And I feed one of my nipples into his mouth.
He sucks for a moment, then his eyes widen and he pulls away.
“What the fuck, Mistress? Is that…some kind of milk?”
“It’s healing nectar,” I correct him. “You need to drink it.”
“Fuck,” he growls softly, shaking his head. “You filled your breasts with nectar just to heal me?”
“You’re mine now,” I say firmly. “I have to care for you. Now come, will you drink and be healed or not?”
His eyes grow heavy-lidded.
“I’ll never say no to touching you or sucking your nipples, Mistress.”
“Good, then come here.”
I lean over him again and this time he takes my nipple willingly. He sucks hard and I feel him drawing the sweet, healing nectar from my breast. It makes me moan with pleasure, for healing doesn’t have to be a thankless task.
I stroke his hair and then run my hand down his muscular chest and lower. My fingers reach his straining cock and find it as hard as ever.
Alaric gives a muffled moan and sucks even harder, his hips bucking to thrust his shaft into my hand.
“Good, my Paladin,” I encourage him. “Take what you need—let me heal you as we pleasure each other.”
Slowly, I stroke him as he sucks my aching nipples, drawing the healing nectar from my breasts. I don’t let him come but I do give him the pleasure of my touch and the comfort of my closeness. Together we drive the dream so far away I know it won’t bother him again—at least tonight. And when my breasts are finally empty, I break my own rules yet again and let him curl up around me with his broad chest to my back.
As we drift back to sleep together, I can feel our hearts beating in unison. I don’t know what this means, but I can’t remember feeling so close to a man—any man—before.
I know Alaric thinks of me as his enemy and believes that he’s only given himself to me in order to eventually win The Heart of the Eclipse. But part of me wonders if there might be more between us than just that…
14
Alaric
The dream of the mad priest doesn’t come back…but the other dreams do. I see myself kneeling to kiss the place between Sister Beatrice’s thighs…only to look up and see a new face looking down at me. This face is beautiful—ethereally lovely like an angel from the stained-glass window of the Temple of the GodKing. But then her lips part and I see her fangs and know that she’s no angel after all.