Read Online The Warlord Wants Forever by Kresley Cole - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kresley Cole
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verge again. He reached down and covered her breasts with his hands, closing his eyes at the feel, squeezing, stopping only to pluck and thumb her nipples.
The pressure was building inside him. His body tightened, knees opening and heels planting on the ground as he tensed to spend. He didn’t know how he’d lived so long without this blinding pleasure.
“Watch me come,” he growled.
She raised her face, and somehow she knew he wanted her to meet his eyes, not watch the actual spiling of his seed. Silvery eyes riveted to his, she worked her fist on his cock, pumping it in time with her finger dipping inside her—as if she yearned for him to fil her.
That thought sent him over the edge. The unbearable pressure exploded as he ejaculated, mindlessly thrusting against her hand, arms shooting straight out to cup her face with both hands. When she saw him spend, her eyes grew wide before fluttering shut and she cried out, jerking against her fingers as she came al on her own.
She colapsed against his knees, stil shuddering, clutching his leg as she had that night in Oblak. Before she’d left him, bleeding and in pain. The need dampened, the familiar resentment flared.
He brushed her aside and stood, rinsing his seed away, staring at the stunning, evil creature stil on her spread knees, hands on her thighs as she panted. The sight of her perfect, generous ass and her wet hair whipped al along her slim back had him stirring yet again.
But she was breathing hard and he knew he’d worked her pitilessly for their first night together. “Rise and come to me.”
When she faced him, her eyes were stark, flickering in color, showing how shocked and uncomprehending she was as she stumbled to obey. He felt a stab of guilt, but made himself remember al the aching days he’d spent roling in pain. The nights he’d sweated from fucking desperately at the very sheets to take relief. She’d reduced him to that.
She was wary, nearing him slowly, and when she was at arm’s length, he said, “Sleep,” then caught her as she fel limp. He rinsed and dried her body and his own, then carried her to his bed.
This should have been a time of satisfaction—by Christ, he had a living, breathing Valkyrie in his bed, and she was his Bride—yet there was little. She was utterly under his control, but he wished she didn’t have to be.
Like a natural born vampire, he hunched over her, dragging the beauty into the shadows with him as he bedded them down in a corner.
Rise.
Myst hazily heard the command, knew she must stil be dreaming because her skin was touching another’s, though she hadn’t slept with a lover in memory. She frowned, disconcerted because her body was so pliant, every muscle released of the tension she normaly carried. But why was her face pressed against the naked, broad chest of a man? She was surrounded by his delicious scent that made her go warm and liquid. Snuggling closer, she dragged a leg up over his.
She heard a male rumbling sound of pleasure, and her eyes went wide. She shot up, drawing the sheet to her neck. Dread settled over her as the events of the night came back to her mind. She was in a vampire’s bed, here as a slave to his every whim. Or as she figured it, she was in hel.
“Were you dreaming about last night?”
“No,” she answered honestly. She’d been thinking about licking every inch of the hard male beneath her.
“How do feel about what we did?”
“We? What you did.”
“I only commanded you to take your pleasure. Of your own volition you took me into your mouth.” He raised an eyebrow. “Greedily.”
She turned away sharply. “Then I feel shame.”
“And?” When she frowned at him, he said in his deep voice, “There’s rarely an instance where emotions do not conflict. What else do you feel when you think of last night?”
She recaled being mindless with lust as she had never been before, hungry for his huge shaft. She had wanted to straddle him
The pressure was building inside him. His body tightened, knees opening and heels planting on the ground as he tensed to spend. He didn’t know how he’d lived so long without this blinding pleasure.
“Watch me come,” he growled.
She raised her face, and somehow she knew he wanted her to meet his eyes, not watch the actual spiling of his seed. Silvery eyes riveted to his, she worked her fist on his cock, pumping it in time with her finger dipping inside her—as if she yearned for him to fil her.
That thought sent him over the edge. The unbearable pressure exploded as he ejaculated, mindlessly thrusting against her hand, arms shooting straight out to cup her face with both hands. When she saw him spend, her eyes grew wide before fluttering shut and she cried out, jerking against her fingers as she came al on her own.
She colapsed against his knees, stil shuddering, clutching his leg as she had that night in Oblak. Before she’d left him, bleeding and in pain. The need dampened, the familiar resentment flared.
He brushed her aside and stood, rinsing his seed away, staring at the stunning, evil creature stil on her spread knees, hands on her thighs as she panted. The sight of her perfect, generous ass and her wet hair whipped al along her slim back had him stirring yet again.
But she was breathing hard and he knew he’d worked her pitilessly for their first night together. “Rise and come to me.”
When she faced him, her eyes were stark, flickering in color, showing how shocked and uncomprehending she was as she stumbled to obey. He felt a stab of guilt, but made himself remember al the aching days he’d spent roling in pain. The nights he’d sweated from fucking desperately at the very sheets to take relief. She’d reduced him to that.
She was wary, nearing him slowly, and when she was at arm’s length, he said, “Sleep,” then caught her as she fel limp. He rinsed and dried her body and his own, then carried her to his bed.
This should have been a time of satisfaction—by Christ, he had a living, breathing Valkyrie in his bed, and she was his Bride—yet there was little. She was utterly under his control, but he wished she didn’t have to be.
Like a natural born vampire, he hunched over her, dragging the beauty into the shadows with him as he bedded them down in a corner.
Rise.
Myst hazily heard the command, knew she must stil be dreaming because her skin was touching another’s, though she hadn’t slept with a lover in memory. She frowned, disconcerted because her body was so pliant, every muscle released of the tension she normaly carried. But why was her face pressed against the naked, broad chest of a man? She was surrounded by his delicious scent that made her go warm and liquid. Snuggling closer, she dragged a leg up over his.
She heard a male rumbling sound of pleasure, and her eyes went wide. She shot up, drawing the sheet to her neck. Dread settled over her as the events of the night came back to her mind. She was in a vampire’s bed, here as a slave to his every whim. Or as she figured it, she was in hel.
“Were you dreaming about last night?”
“No,” she answered honestly. She’d been thinking about licking every inch of the hard male beneath her.
“How do feel about what we did?”
“We? What you did.”
“I only commanded you to take your pleasure. Of your own volition you took me into your mouth.” He raised an eyebrow. “Greedily.”
She turned away sharply. “Then I feel shame.”
“And?” When she frowned at him, he said in his deep voice, “There’s rarely an instance where emotions do not conflict. What else do you feel when you think of last night?”
She recaled being mindless with lust as she had never been before, hungry for his huge shaft. She had wanted to straddle him
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