Willing (The Un #1) Read Online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors: , Series: The Un Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
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Matthias well… he’s an asshole.

And my strength is unmatched. I wonder how much stronger bonding with Chloe has actually made me?

All vampires carry a trait in them from when they were human that bleeds into their undead life. Sometimes it can be something as small as being a hunter, like Matthias, that turns into a major skill.

I wonder what Chloe will be able to do?

My tongue wets my lips at the thought of her name. Just one little thought of her and I’m feeling the pull to go back and taste her thighs again. To lick her delicious cunt. To flick her tiny pearl with my tongue and taste her heavenly lips.

My cock starts to swell and I’m forced to rearrange myself so I don’t walk like some fucking teenage boy.

Raphael turns to me as we descend the stairs and stares first at my crotch then into my eyes. “What the absolute fuck, Asher?”

Using one of the more modern phrases I know that gets under his skin, I say, “Don’t fucking judge me.”

Pushing past him, I reach the bottom of the stairwell and walk directly into the basement. It’s an open basement that doesn’t have much in the way of walls or décor.

Seated right in the middle is Isaac.

“Isaac, the hunter…” I find myself sneering at the pathetic man. “It just gives me shivers down my spine.”

The human twists his head toward me, blood, sweat, and bruises all over his face. His bellowing quieted by the duct tape slapped over his mouth.

“Hunter of vampires,” I continue as I walk around him. My hand lashes out to claw a deep gash across his tattooed chest. “How very fucking frightful.”

Leaning against a wall, Matthias puts his phone back into his pocket then chuckles. “Anyone want to take bets on how many of us he’s killed?”

“I’ll drop an even fifty grand saying this fuck hasn’t wetted his blade on one of us yet,” Raphael says.

“It’s a losing bet,” I say and look down as I rest my bare foot between the hunter’s legs, right on the edge of his seat. “I bet he’s still a virgin, in more than one way.”

“Truly?” Ambrose says from the corner. He begins to waltz toward us. “It’s been a decade since I’ve drunk from a male virgin!”

Andrei steps up beside me and pokes me in the ribs. “I need his blood before you fucks mess with him too much. Preferably untainted.”

“Is that an attack on me, my dear newly-obtained brother?” Ambrose asks, putting his hand over his chest in what appears to be genuine sadness.

“No, it’s a warning to you all. I need to know what the hell he’s been drinking,” Andrei says and tries to move me aside.

Standing my ground, I inch my foot up to the poor hunter’s balls and begin to step down on them with my bare toes. It’s quite an unsettling feeling, but it’s comforting to hear him scream in pain behind his gag.

“I want to know where he got her blood and for how long he’s been doing it,” I say, lifting my toes slowly off his balls.

“Ask him when I’m done then, dammit.” Andrei pushes at me again, and I let him move me slowly.

It wouldn’t be good to let him win too easily.

Turning from the hunter, I wrap my hand around Ambrose’s bicep. “Come, I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, sire,” he says airily as we move away.

Motioning at the hunter, I ask Ambrose, “You’re a part of my coven now, Ambrose. Do you understand the meaning of this?”

“As much as I can, sire,” he says, barely lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve never had brothers before, or much of a sire.”

“Then understand this, we are a family. We keep no secrets that could aid each other, and we protect the coven with our lives.”

“I… I understand.” His eyes focus on me. “Does that mean you’ll tell the truth about the illness you had?”

“Yes.” I wince. “I’m betting you knew about it back in the den.”

“I did.”

“How?”

“I could smell it on your skin,” Ambrose says, “and an inky black sickness oozed out of your pores.”

Ambrose continues to stare at me for a long time, his eyes losing that distant look of not being entirely in this realm.

“You were dying,” he goes on. “It would have been within the month. You would have simply fallen into one of your living dreams and not return.”

My brain forces my body to resist the blood-chilling shudders that want to crawl up my spine at his words. Was I really that close to death? Why was Andrei the only one of my children who could see it?

Nodding my head slowly, I say, “You’re more than likely right…”

“No,” Ambrose says firmly, “I am right.”

“What do you know of the Benedictine’s hunters? Have you ever seen something like this before?”


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