Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,210

she’s still nothing more than a pest.

Her grin deepens, just as Damien catches me off guard, hitting me with a heavy dose of seduction that boils through my veins.

A startled cry leaves me, as the song shifts. I’m not sure what it changes to, because for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.

Darkness is all I see.

Numbness blows through me, dragging with it a reprieve from the overwhelming, unsatisfied aches that have been dominating my body for what feels like hours.

A prickle of cold awareness spreads through me, and I damn near panic. If it’s dark and numb, then…Anna managed to shove me back.

There’s a laughter in the back of my mind that’s so dull I barely hear it, and an image slams into me from somewhere outside.

The wall is crumbling, steel is groaning, and someone shouts a curse as dust explodes into the room.

It goes dark and silent for another brief second. I feel and hear the spray of salt once more, and my breath comes out in a heaved rush. My eyes collide with Emit’s, and a daring grin hikes up at one corner of his mouth.

I glance down, seeing our bodies most definitely seated together, with him under me.

“For the record, you attacked me,” he says, as though they already know it’s me again.

His hips move, and a shudder races through me, as all those numbed sensations are set ablaze once again with remembered aches. My nails are already digging into his shoulders, and I pull him closer, pressing our bodies so close that flesh slides against flesh.

He growls, his lips going to my neck, as his grip tightens on my hips, moving my body for me.

My eyes try to roll back in my head, but as my head tips back, I catch sight of my collapsed ceiling. It occurs to me that chains are clanking against Emit.

He drops back onto the bed, and he brings me down with him. My eyes widen on the gaping holes in my walls…where my legs were chained to the steel beams.

The whole wall looks unsafe now.

“Once again, the chains have proven stronger than the supports,” Damien states, before he’s suddenly coming down on my back.

Just when it feels like he’s about to join in, there’s a brief fog of darkness, another spray of salt, and then my eyes open to find Damien groaning.

He’s slowly picking himself up off the floor, shooting Emit a nasty look, when I feel the wolf laughing, while still having sex with me.

“Fuck’s sake, why does the wolf always get a free pass, but I get thrown into a damn wall?” Damien asks.

But Emit reclaims my full attention when his lips fuse with mine. Damien’s rant is barely static noise, as Emit makes use of all that experience he has with a woman’s body.

He controls my hips, halting me from moving them faster, when I feel that edge returning.

“He was one hundred percent as effectively guilty in this scheme as I was,” Damien is still griping. “He has you fooled, Violet. He really is a savage, ruthless wolf. Not some Teddy bear.”

I feel Emit’s grin against my lips, as he takes care of my body. The only savage thing about Emit is the way he is in bed.

It’s primal and carnal every time. I almost want to join him in howling at the moon when he’s got me under him, over him, or bent over in front of him.

His hair tickles over my hands, as I slide my fingers into the long, soft strands. He makes a growl of approval when I pull him closer, devouring him as thoroughly as he’s devouring me.

My next cry is swallowed, as my body shudders in agonizing relief. The flood of sensation is almost overwhelming when that euphoric crash hits without being stolen.

I shake against him, allowing him to drink in all my sounds, as he rolls his hips in all the most perfect ways.

My breath is sucked out of me in the next second, because I’m briefly weightless, as the room turns. When my back hits the bed, Emit comes down on top of me.

It almost feels like he sets off an aftershock of pleasure the second he pushes back inside me. Chasing his own release, his powerful body moves over mine, muscles straining.

My gaze is glued to the concentrated intensity etched in his features. I feel the tickle of his beard, seconds before his lips are back on mine.

His beard is soft enough to not scratch at me, and