The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6) Read Online Jennifer L. Armentrout

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Blood And Ash Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
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Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
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“The essence is an extension of your will, right? You would never hurt me,” I said. “So, the essence inside you won’t either. You don’t have to worry about reining it in with me.”

“You’re right about never hurting you,” he said. “But I’m not sure about that last part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Until I fully understand what having this essence inside me means, I don’t want to lose control.”

I understood that. I did. But I didn’t like the idea of him worrying that he’d hurt me. “You said the essence looked like shadows.”

He trailed his fingers over my cheek. “It doesn’t?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s more of a deep-gray color with streaks of crimson.”

His head tilted, causing the ring and chain to pool between my breasts. “It looked like shadows to me, but now that you mention it, it is different. But I didn’t get—” He leaned to the side. This time, a ragged breath left both of us. “I didn’t get to the part about the crimson.”

“That bit is pretty big.”

“Like my cock?”

My lips pursed.

He chuckled and ran his nose across my jaw. “I’m not sure why it looks different.”

“Me neither,” I murmured with a slight frown. “It’s obviously the essence of death. True death—” I gasped again, my eyes widening. “Are you getting…?”

His lips brushed over mine. “Getting what?”

“You know.”

“But I don’t,” he murmured, slowly rolling his hips. “I think you should use a gratuitous number of descriptive words, just to make sure I understand what you’re referencing.”

“You know exactly what I’m referencing.”

His lips made another slow pass over mine. “Poppy?”

My breathing quickened again. There wasn’t an inch of space between our hips as his lazily churned against mine. “What?”

“I’m waiting.”

“Hard,” I snapped. “I was going to ask how you’re hard again—”

“Poppy,” He feigned a gasp. “That’s an inappropriate question to ask.”

“Are you fucking—?”

He kissed me, capturing my lower lip as he ground his hips against mine. “I’m trying to.”

“You’re trying to…?” I smacked his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is horny.”

I laughed, unable to stop myself.

His chest rose with a sharp breath, and then he shuddered and lowered his forehead to mine once more. In an instant, I knew the shield he had put up around his emotions had cracked. I felt them without even trying, and my breath caught as I attempted to decipher what I was picking up from him: the sweetness of love tinged with the spicy flavor of lust. The earthiness of relief and something else. Something faint with just a hint of airiness. I knew what it was despite rarely feeling it from Casteel.

Peace.

He stiffened against me, and then the walls he built around his emotions were back up.

“Casteel?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

My fingers moved idly down his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

I wasn’t sure if he was telling me the truth. “You’re shielding your emotions from me.”

“Habit,” he replied, kissing my shoulder again before easing himself from me. “Are you tired?”

“Gods, no. How could I be after sleeping for so long?” I said, and he glanced at me with a smile. No dimple was visible. “What about you?”

Dipping his head, he kissed my forehead. “I’m fine. We still have a lot to discuss,” he said, rocking back as his gaze lifted to mine. His eyebrows shot up.

“What?” I asked.

“Your eyes.”

“Oh, no.” I pressed myself into the bed, slapping my hands over my face. “What about them now?”

“You’ll be happy to hear this.” He took hold of my wrists and pulled my hands away. “They look more like they did before. They’re mostly green again.”

“Really?” I blinked. “Are the other colors still there?”

He nodded. “But they’re like flecks now instead of blotches.”

“That sounds—”

“Beautiful,” he interrupted, kissing the tips of my fingers. “And I think I know why.”

“Do tell?”

“I fucked you hard enough to change your eyes.”

Another loud laugh erupted from me. “I’m sure that’s what did it.”

The smile that tugged at his lips this time was wider, and the dimple in his right cheek winked to life. “Maybe it has to do with your current mood,” he said. “Although, I do prefer my original theory: that it was the power of my—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned, the curve of my lips betraying my amusement.

Chuckling, he indulged in another quick kiss. “Stay here.”

I hummed in agreement as he rose from the bed and picked up his discarded breeches. Rolling onto my side, I shamelessly soaked in the nice view of his rear. He went into the bathing chamber but left the door ajar.

I threw myself onto my back and tilted my head as I saw the painting of the gods on the ceiling. The all-too-realistic glint painted in their eyes made it look as if they were actually staring back at me…while I lay there basically nude.

Who would paint that above a bed?


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