Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
His cock lengthened, thick and heavy as he watched her. As if he could hold out no longer, he took it into his hand and pumped it up and down to the time of her circles. He could have fucked her at any point, but instead he watched. His fascination with the sight of her pleasuring herself was a pulse between them.
And she, too, was mesmerized. Watching his cock disappear in and out of his hand. Hands that had blackmailed and tortured and killed people. That had made her scream her pleasure and find her memories and held her safe. A duality that she couldn’t begin to disentangle. Maybe she never would.
“Oh God,” she cried out as her orgasm hung by a string. “I’m close. So close.”
Graves was pumping even faster. One hand parted her legs, slipping fingers inside her wet pussy. The added friction tipped her over the edge. She came with a fury, clenching around his fingers. He continued jacking off, watching her orgasm with a renewed fervor. Then he unloaded, hot come spurting out of him to land on her chest and stomach. Sticky white seed smeared all over her.
When he finally finished, he looked down at her through bedroom eyes and said, “A masterpiece.”
She laughed. “I’m covered.”
“I fucking love it.” He ran a finger through his own come from breast to belly button and down further. “If I had it my way, I’d have you filled and covered in come every weekday and all weekend.”
“Oh my God,” she said with an eye roll. “What are you, marking your territory?”
He grinned. “Maybe I am.”
She laughed because there was nothing else to do. She couldn’t believe the girl who had always been more into girls and half hated the idea of a guy coming in her was now coated in the stuff and contemplating when she could have it happen again. Asshole.
Graves pressed a kiss to her lips. “We need to clean up. We have company.”
“What?” Kierse asked.
But no matter how she tried to wheedle an answer out of him, he carried her into the shower and cleaned her off. He had her bent over the bench again, pumping into her until they both came hard and fast. A desperate second orgasm that he milked out of her with precision.
She toweled off and changed into a black tank and shorts. Graves claimed that he had one more thing to do in his office and then he’d meet her in the library. He offered for her to be the one more thing he had to do, and oh how the idea had been tempting. She pushed him toward his office and left him to his work. She was starving and…a little hungover. How potent had that old bottle of wine been? She’d definitely been buzzing, but now her head hurt. So, while she wanted to find out about their company, she needed food first.
Kierse stopped in the kitchen to find Isolde with a spread already laid out. “I see you’re enjoying cooking for more people.”
Isolde brightened. “We’re like a bed and breakfast.”
Kierse laughed at that assessment. “Don’t tell Graves.”
“Never,” Isolde said conspiratorially. “We don’t want to disrupt him.”
Isolde hummed happily as she kneaded dough for a cinnamon babka. She was trying to match the recipe to the one Kierse loved from her favorite bakery.
“You were famished,” Isolde said when she downed a whole plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes and went in for a second.
“Hangover,” she told her with a yawn.
“Ah, take some of the biscuits to go with you. Gen really likes them.”
“Everyone likes your cookies,” Kierse said.
Isolde straightened at the word. “We’ll have you using the proper words eventually.”
Kierse laughed as she grabbed the tray and took it upstairs and into the library.
When she pushed inside, she’d honestly been expecting Graves’s mentor, Kingston. Graves didn’t have many other friends in his line of work. Just a long list of enemies, broken hearts, and staff. Kingston was the closest thing he had to a friend, but they hadn’t heard from him again since the ominous roses when they’d first returned to the city. And he wasn’t here today, either.
“Walter Rodriguez,” Kierse said.
Graves’s old apprentice was seated cross-legged on the couch, a laptop open on his knees. Gen sat next to him, stroking Anne’s head. Anne hissed at Kierse as she approached and trotted off into the stacks. One day that cat was going to like her. She swore she was.
“’Sup,” Walter said, pressing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he buried his head back in the computer. He wore a gray T-shirt with a comic book character Kierse didn’t recognize on it, black jeans, and black high-top sneakers.
“Surprised to see you here.”
Walter shrugged. “No one more than me.”
She set the tray down on the table and put a hand on her forehead as she dropped into a chair. She grimaced at the decoy box in front of her, which she was still having trouble with.