Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“You call this even?” His tongue slips out to catch his bottom lip, and then a look of grim determination takes over as his blue eyes meet mine.
“Don’t,” I warn, shimmying backward, out of his reach.
“When I am through with you—” He cuts off mid-threat, his head swiveling right.
Gruff voices sound nearby, just outside the barn door.
Diving on top of me, he reaches over and extinguishes the candle with his fingertips, throwing the loft into darkness. Our breath melds between us as we wait, Tyree’s body stiff with tension, his pulse a heady thrum.
I stare up at him brazenly, appreciating the design of his handsome face—the hard, masculine angles coupled with appealing features—knowing that his Ybarisan eyes don’t grant him the same ability.
Finally, the voices fade before disappearing altogether, the threat averted.
Tyree fumbles for the metal box, relighting the candle. “Just in case …” Bales of hay slide to form a wall along the edge of the loft, closing us in.
The way he uses his affinity with ease still enthralls me, but right now I’m focused on the fact that he hasn’t moved yet. “Is there a reason you are still lying on top of me?” I whisper. Not that I’m complaining. I don’t mind his weight at all, though he’s braced some of it with his elbows, landed on either side of me.
“A reason? No. A wish, perhaps.” His shaky breath skates across my face. “How many times must I save your life before you will begin to trust me?”
“I don’t know.” But that’s a lie, because somewhere along the way, Tyree became someone other than my Ybarisan captor and the person I most hate. “Why did you kiss me today?”
His eyes drop to my lips as if reminded of it. “Because I thought we might die.”
“And now that we are still alive?”
He leans forward a touch, until his nose grazes mine, leaving a splotch of honey on my skin. “I want to kiss you even more.”
My heart pounds in my chest at his frank honesty. “What if I still craved your blood?”
“Then I would regret ever having ingested that poison.” He pulls back to meet my eyes. “I know what it feels like, Annika. How good you can make it feel.”
Because it’s rarely ever just feeding when we take a tributary. My last one, Percy, would eagerly strip off his clothes and present his vein the second he stepped inside my room. But it was more than fucking. An intimate bond formed between us—between all of my tributaries and me. They were entirely devoted, which is not at all uncommon.
“You mean, with Jada.” The Islorian temptress broke his heart and turned him against the rest of us, and she wasn’t even feeding off him for need. It was all for lust. A spike of jealousy stirs inside me, knowing she had him in a way that I never will.
I never will.
I gasp suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Tyree watches me warily.
“Nothing. It’s just … I have not been with anyone when I did not feed from them. What if it isn’t the same?”
His deep chuckle stirs my stomach. “That is what you are worried about? That the fucking won’t be as good?”
“Well …” I bite my bottom lip to try to hide my smile. “Yes.”
His eyes light up with mischief. “There is only one way to know, isn’t there?”
A suggestion thrown out.
A proposition made.
The air between us electrifies as I search for the right answer. I could reject him, I could treat it as another of his flippant jokes. But the warmth blooming through my body holds my tongue.
I’m not the only one affected. I can feel his heartbeat pound through his chest, and the suddenly hard press against my thigh is not his dagger.
“Since we will probably die tomorrow, anyway …” I let the insinuation linger.
“Not if I can help it.”
“You’re not aiding your cause, Ty,” I purr, trying out the moniker for the first time.
He leans in, dragging his tongue along my jawline where he smeared honey earlier.
I close my eyes and revel in the feel of his mouth. “You’re getting more on me.”
“Like I started to say, by the time I’m done, there won’t be an inch of you not coated in something.” He shifts, his face dipping down to my neck, leaving a trail of honey as he tugs on the clasp of my cloak. The ends fall back. His fingers work over the buttons at the top of my nightgown. I smile. Tyree wears no hesitation and excessive amounts of confidence, but I’m beginning to admire that about him.
“I’m glad you kept this on,” he says, splaying the material apart. Cool air caresses my bare chest, peaking my nipples.
“Why is that?”
His eyes light up as they rake over my breasts. “Because I had to undress a corpse for those other clothes. It might have ruined the mood for me.”