The Wrath – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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She licked her lips and proceeded full steam ahead. “Let’s have a drink and discuss—”

“No drinks.” He flashed over, grabbed the glass, and poured the contents into the decanter. “The Astra won’t bypass my new traps. You’re safe anywhere on the grounds. I’m taking a shower. Be gone when I exit.” Poof. He disappeared.

Oookay. What just happened? This was more than an upset over today’s events.

The urge to comfort him took center stage, and she remained. If he wanted her gone, he’d have to carry her out, and that was that.

Minutes that felt like hours passed. Finally, the door opened. She straightened with a snap, her heart thudding.

Her gaze found him. He stood in the doorway, naked. Water dotted his lashes and wet his scarlet skin, droplets cascading over his bulging muscles. His mátia focused on her, glinting with desperate need.

Her heart thudded faster, harder. She lost her breath.

“You should have left,” he growled, stomping over to claim her parting lips with his own.

21

So many thoughts barraged Rathbone. His spoiled son, raised by a despised foe. Lore’s partnership with the very enemy attempting to kill her. The lost bone. The comfort and torment of Neeka’s presence. His undeniable desire for the oracle and no other. He’d never felt so raw or needed solace more.

He kissed his oracle with all the fervency seething inside him. She kissed him just as wildly, matching him stroke for stroke, grounding him in the moment. Addicting him to the wonder of her taste. The perfection of her scent. The delight of being wrapped in her arms. Her. Just her. Everything she brought to the table. Strength and cunning. Smiles and laughs. A shockingly tender heart. Such a zest for life.

Now, he burned. He was an inferno, and she was the never-ending supply of kindling. She lit an unquenchable fire so deep within him the flames consumed him from the inside out.

He rolled his tongue with hers, removed and tossed her metal breastplate. Before the heavy piece even hit the floor, he had her plump breasts in his hands. A groan of pleasure slipped from her, and he swallowed it. The sweetness of her whipped him into a frenzy.

This wasn’t the same as other interludes, and he knew it. He ached worse, craved more, and cared nothing for the consequences. The danger of relying on someone else when he had yet to work through the box of unpinned grenades awaiting his attention.

What if...what if he’d made a mistake, and Neeka was his fated one? He’d told himself it was impossible, but was it?

The mere idea awoke a possessive beast inside him. It snarled and clawed, demanding its due. Her, only her. Him for her, and only him. No one else should hear these delicious noises she made. No other should hold and touch her like this. Rathbone the Only for Neeka.

He kissed her harder. Deeper. Desperate to leave his mark. Whatever she was to him, he—they—were done with their old ways of doing business. Pretending to be unaffected by each other. And he knew she’d pretended. Being draped on her neck today, he’d felt her pulse hammer with arousal. He’d also felt the heat of her silken skin and scented the fragrance of tart cherries and sweet almonds with every breath. He’d gotten locked in a constant cycle of arousal, too. Need her, calm himself. Need her, calm himself.

Now, his awareness of her reached new heights. Despite the windfall of truth that had been unleashed and the magnitude of events taking place around them. World-changing things he must deal with once he could think past the enigmatic beauty he longed to make scream in his bed.

Bed. Yes. Growling, Rathbone gripped Neeka by the waist and tossed her on the mattress. He covered her body with his before she ceased bouncing, pinning her with his weight. As she coiled her limbs around him, he let himself sink into her. He sucked air between his teeth. Hardness pressed into softness, and it maddened him.

“I want you,” he all but snarled, bracing on his elbows. Panting breaths left him. “All of you. Everything. Nothing held back.”

Dark, luminous eyes met his, somehow confident yet vulnerable and so haunting he might see them in his dreams for the rest of eternity. “Why do you want me so much when you’re in love with another?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Let’s not talk of her. There’s only you and me in this bed.”

She groaned, saying, “Dang you. That’s a good answer.” Softening against him, she moistened her lips. “I won’t give you everything, but I will give you more. Remember, anything but the ultimate penetration.”

“Very well.” He would take whatever she offered and make it count.

Though the storm continued to whip inside him, Rathbone gently cupped her cheek and traced the pad of his thumb over the dip in her bottom lip. Her inhalation hitched. He lowered his head, kissed her brow, one eye then the other, then the bridge of her nose. The tip. She seemed to stop breathing entirely. Tremors rocked her against him. His? Hers? Both?


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