Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
He raised his head and drew her closer. “I thought you might have another appetite in mind.”
His mouth came down on hers with all the hunger four nights apart had built in him, and Adira welcomed the force of it, her arms tightening around his neck as he pulled her hard against him.
Then she heard him breathe. Not the faint sound she had grown accustomed to while riding with him, but a deep, uneven breath that escaped him when his mouth left hers and moved along her neck.
She closed her eyes, relishing the sounds and the pleasure they brought her.
She had known Dravic’s desire before. She had felt it in his body, in the strength of his embrace and the demanding way he kissed her. But hearing what she did to him was different. It reached somewhere inside her that touch alone never had.
“Adira.”
Her name, spoken in that deep voice so close to her ear, sent a shiver through her.
Dravic felt it. His hand moved into her hair and drew her head back enough that he could look at her.
“I love how eagerly you respond to me, trust me, want me.”
Her heart stumbled.
His eyes searched hers before his mouth claimed hers again, and this time Adira gave herself over to him, determined not to allow the wonder of what she heard to betray her.
But it wasn’t easy.
She heard the fire snap sharply behind them. The scrape of their movement across the floor as he moved her a step backward. The whisper of their breaths upon their skin. And through it all she heard his breathing growing heavier, and the deep murmur of her name.
She had not known how much she had missed. How much of him had always been beyond her reach.
Dravic turned her and pressed her back to his chest, then one hand went to her breast and his other hand slipped along her stomach before drifting lower.
“I have been aching to touch you,” he whispered, then nibbled along the rim of her ear.
His voice was filled with a rough passion as if impatient but forcing himself to go slow. And she did not mind at all. She loved how his hands explored her, tempted her, satisfied her.
His teeth nipped along her neck as his hand left her breast, her nipple pulsing from his playful teasing, and settled against her mid-section as if locking her against him. Then his fingers made their way into the triangle of hair between her legs and brushed over the tender nub that sent shivers racing through her and her passion soaring.
“I love the feel of you,” he whispered, “your softness, your scent. You intoxicate me. I will never get enough of you.”
She gasped, his finger slipping inside her as she felt the strength of his manhood pressing against her.
“I can’t wait,” he murmured as if annoyed at himself and swiftly scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. “We have the whole night, and I intend for us to spend most of it making love.”
Making love.
Not coupling, not mating, but making love. Could he truly mean that?
He lowered her down onto the bed but didn’t immediately join her. He stood looking down at her, his powerful frame outlined by the glow from the hearth, his gaze moving slowly over her.
Adira had learned quickly when Dravic desired her, perhaps it was because she felt it herself. But now she heard it in his voice, and it made such a difference.
“You are beautiful.”
Her breath caught.
Another word she was familiar with, but how?
The thought was lost to her when Dravic came down beside her, his hand settling against her face.
“Mine. You will always be mine.”
But will you always be mine?
The thought brought with it the ache that haunted her about a future with him. She hurried to push it away. She would not allow an uncertain future to steal a single moment she had with him.
Tonight was theirs.
Tomorrow belonged once again to the king.
Adira rested her hand against his chest, then let it wander slowly over him, down lower and lower.
“A brief touch that is all,” he said, resting his brow against hers.
She wanted more than a brief touch. She wanted to feel the strength of him in her hand, stroke him, and hear his low moans grow louder. She had always judged what pleased him by the tightening of his body or the way his hands moved over her. Now she could hear his pleasure.
She barely stroked his manhood when his hand stopped her and without a word being spoken, he slipped over. She spread her legs welcoming him and he slipped easily inside her.
They moved as one as if the rhythm was as old as time to them—slow, fast, wildly impatient. It didn’t matter. They remained in rhythm that built to a magnificent crescendo.