Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
And then he wraps his hand around himself and strokes roughly. My mouth parts as I watch him, the way he works his hard cock, his breathing increasing as pained bliss crosses his face. It’s so fucking erotic that I hold my breath, wanting to see him fall over the edge.
When he does, it’s with a shudder as he groans my name—and I gasp as his come paints my tits again and again while he continues pumping himself.
Gods. Why did I like that so much?
Finally sated, Silas surprises me by dropping back to his knees and pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is luxurious, and when he pulls back, we gaze at each other.
But my curiosity is building again, and without looking away from him, I swipe my index finger through his release and raise it to my lips for another taste.
Silas’s gaze turns searing, and he groans brokenly.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispers in fae, closing in for another kiss.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
But our kiss is interrupted when someone knocks on the door, startling us both. Silas huffs and stands, grabbing a dark bathrobe from its spot on a hanger by the door to his bathroom.
I go from feeling dazed in an afterglow to battling amusement. Because of course, he has a bathrobe like any melodramatic fae on the brink of madness might. It somehow makes perfect sense for him.
Silas ties the front of it and throws the door open, snapping, “What is it?”
“Oh! Mr. Crane, I d—do apologize,” Mr. Gibbons sputters.
I’m sure the bushy-browed legacy must be turning ten shades of red, realizing he’s interrupted Silas’s extracurricular activities.
Even though I know he can’t see me, I grab the blanket from the floor and wrap it back around myself. As I do, my attention moves back to the wetness still left between my thighs from Silas eating my soul out.
And touching me.
The events of the last half hour start to sink in, and my body breaks into a cold sweat as I shut my eyes.
Safe. That touch was safe. Don’t freak out.
My nervous system doesn’t get the memo, and now all I can think about are maggots. Those corpse-eating worms terrorized me when I was younger, and so they were incorporated into my conditioning—especially when it came to avoiding physical touch. I feel like their wriggling phantom bodies are all over me again, trying to burrow into my flesh.
My stomach clenches dangerously.
“What couldn’t have waited until the morning?” Silas seethes.
“W—well, it seems that no one in your quintet reported your chosen emphasis during the Matched Ball…and you see, at the end of the celebration, I was?—“
He starts rambling about how he searched for Silas during the dance to get our emphasis because he wants to ensure we’re put in classes with the best professors. But I’m not paying attention as I start swallowing repeatedly to try to keep bile from rising in my throat.
Damn it. I need something to distract me.
A shower. I need a shower.
I stagger to my feet. Silas is still standing with the door barely ajar so the interim headmaster can’t see inside, but he glances over his shoulder at me and immediately tenses.
“Combat,” he snaps at Mr. Gibbons before slamming the door and rushing to my side.
“Damn me to hell. I forgot that you have…” He shakes his head, changing whatever he was about to say. “Tell me how to fix this.”
Shaving my skin off would be a good start.
But since I doubt he’ll take me up on that, I sidestep him to hurry into his bathroom, locking the door. As soon as I’m alone, I strip and stumble into the shower, turning it on and breathing out a sigh of relief when the sharp cold of the spray eases my body out of the fight or flight mode that was crippling me a moment ago.
Several minutes later, I’m no longer nauseous. My eyes feel heavy as I wrap myself in a thick towel. When I emerge from the bathroom, I find Silas sitting on the edge of the fainting couch, a bottle of hard liquor in one hand as he glares into the fire. His bleeding crystal is clutched tightly in his other hand.
“Tell me why you can’t stand touch, sangfluir. I just need to know.”
I change the topic without batting an eye because there is no way in hell I’m about to give him a post-coital sob story. That’s way too intimate, and already, I’m having a hard time not taking the bottle away from him to try and soothe his inner demons myself.
“Something happened during my episode,” I surmise. “Something the three of you were eager to keep me from noticing. Tell me exactly what I missed.”
Silas’s attention flicks down to the scar on my chest that’s just visible above the top of the towel before he looks away. Yet even that tiny movement makes me tense.
What does he know?
“If you’re not answering questions tonight, neither am I,” he mutters. “But now that you’ve forgiven me, tell me what you wanted my help wi?—“
“I never officially forgave you,” I point out because a little lighthearted torment never hurt anybody.
He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig before rubbing his face. “You are the most stubborn creature in existence.”
“You have no idea.”
My stubbornness is what made me what I am today. That, and my sense of focus, which is why I quickly get back to business.
“I need you to perform two tracking spells. One to find Kenzie and one to find the person who poisoned me. You can use their dried blood from the clothes I was wearing.”
He examines me curiously. “You can’t cast the spell yourself?”
“Not at the moment.”
To my relief, Silas doesn’t ask follow-up questions and instead nods. “I can track them. As long as I get to drain the life out of the one who poisoned you.”
Intriguing. But as much as I’d like to see how Silas uses those surprise fangs, I give him a dark smile.
“No. But you can watch me kill them. Deal?”
The corner of his lips twitch. “Very well.”
“I’ll go get the bloodied clothes,” I tell him, turning toward the door.
“You want to do the spells tonight?”
He’s surprised. That’s understandable since it’s now well past midnight. But every minute that ticks by is another minute where that changeling could spill my secret. And even though I know Kenzie is alive, I don’t know what condition she’s in or where she is. I need answers, even if my limbs feel heavy and my stomach is starting to complain that I forgot to put anything in it today.
As if Silas sees how tired I am, he moves quickly to step in front of me when I reach for his door handle.
“We’ll do the spells first thing in the morning.”
“I told you this was time-sensitive.”
His crimson irises are unbearably tender. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Maven. You’re tired. That episode clearly took a toll on you. Rest so you’ll be better able to help Kenzie once we track her down.”
He’s annoyingly logical.
“Fine,” I grumble, reaching for the door handle again.
“Sleep here tonight,” Silas blurts. When he sees me start to shake my head, he adds on quickly, “You’ll have the bed to yourself. I sleep on the couch most of the time, anyway. Besides, the Immortal Quintet made it clear that those violating the curfew will be caught and punished. And…”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.