The Hated (Sleeping With Monsters Book 3) by Cassie Alexander Page B

girl. Show me some lick of her strength.”
    I tried to wrestle my hand back from him – only getting it when he let go, and he laughed cruelly.
    “You have nothing. You are nothing, compared to her.”
    “Don’t you think I know that? I read everything --” I rubbed my wrist with my other hand. “But I want to be like her -- and you’re the only link I have.”
    “Then show me your powers,” he challenged again.
    I looked down at my wrist where his fingerprints showed. “I can read ancient things.”
    “A librarian. How quaint.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “Anything else? Anything more?”
    I swallowed and inhaled. “When – I released you. That’s when I have powers.”
    There was silence while he stared at me. “You mean fucking, girl? You’re only magical when you fuck?” He made a gesture in front of me, and I knew what it was – a dark place being pierced by a cock.
    “Yes. I am magical when I…fuck,” I said, trying out the strange word. “It worked with you, didn’t it?”
    “Don’t expect me to thank you, waking me up to the loss of my love and the betrayal of my entire kind.”
    “Look – just –“ I pulled my chair next to his. “If you want to see what I can do,” I put my hand over into his lap, wondering if he’d grab at me again, finding the folds in his clothing that would let my hand in. “Let me show you.”
    His eyes lowered and his jaw clenched – but inside the circle of my fingers, I felt his cock stir.

Chapter Six
    My head ached from the impossibility of it – and because every time I looked away from her, she looked like
her
, my Airelle. It was as though someone had painted Airelle, and someone had then painted that painting, and then again and again – I knew it wasn’t her, and yet if my eyes were half-closed or she were only seen out of the corner of my eye, I hoped.
    We were bloodbound, she was beautiful, and I hated her.
    And then she pushed her slender pale hand beneath the black leather of my armor and took hold of my soft cock.
    “You hope to enspell me?”
    She smiled placatingly. “You wanted to see my magic – and I wanted to show you.”
    She stroked me as any temple whore could have done – was she as innocent as she seemed? How could anyone be so naive? If it had been anyone else doing what she did to me now – I would have cut their hand off and fed it to them.
    But I didn’t stop her because she did look like Airelle. My Airelle never would have spoken so quietly or put up with my bursts of anger, but her fingers wrapped me and my body answered. She wasn’t
her
, but she smelled the same, and if I closed my eyes --
    “See?” she said, as I stiffened in her hand.
    “You ruin it when you speak,” I growled, and she shut up – but her hand didn’t slow.
    She played up and down me, her hand like Airelle’s, skillful, deft. But Airelle would have had her other hand in my hair, wound tight, making me beg her for release, praying for a drop of blood. At the memories of so many nights lost with her, exchanging pain for pleasure, my cock swelled, and the hand stroking it pulled faster in response.
    I took hold of the edge of the table and came with a groan, imagining Airelle at my side, my Queen the temptress, always taunting, teasing, driving me mad – and I inhaled deeply, praying that by the time I exhaled circumstances would have changed.
    But no, when I opened my eyes I saw her there, staring at the lacy wetness of my seed in her palm.
    “What happened? Have I hurt you?” She showed her hand to me.
    The spell – such as it was – was broken, and I was disgusted with myself for my hope.
    “You have made me come, my Queen.” Another thing to hate her for.
    “But Joshan –“ she looked to her male servant and then again to me. “He doesn’t leak.”
    I looked to the man in the doorway. He was as tall as I was, all muscle bound, watching what happened without comment – without jealousy. “You’ve fucked him?