Chosen: Part Five (Allure Book 5) by Josie Litton

Author:Josie Litton [Litton, Josie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-08-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Adam

A wolf’s dawn was scattering the stars when I awoke. In the first few moments of consciousness, I lay on my back, staring up at the carved wooden ceiling above the bed. A too-familiar sense of hollowness gripped me, a void as bleak as it was terrifying. Its presence was no surprise; I’d awakened to it many times before. In a sense, it was an old, familiar companion.

Yet it was different this time, tentative in some way, as though its accustomed grip on me was no longer certain.

Before I could consider that, the soft rise and fall of another’s breathing distracted me.

Grace.

Relief at her presence made me nearly giddy. A foolish smile spread across my face. How had her unspeakable family managed to name her so aptly?

I closed my eyes for a moment, gripped by memories of the past few hours. Grace, her back bowed, a fine sheen of sweat glowing on her alabaster skin, a soft cry rising from her slick, swollen lips. My thumbs on the exquisitely sensitive skin of her inner thighs, reaching to part the slick, wet folds of her labia. My tongue lapping at her clit and lower, drinking of her, her scent and taste suffusing my veins with life itself. My name torn from her throat as she came. One orgasm cascading into another, obliterating everything but the two of us, together.

Sitting up abruptly, I stretched out a hand only to hesitate.

She had to be exhausted. By rights, I should have been as well. But even as I tried to pull back and let her rest, my cock jerked. Carefully, I pushed the sheet down, exposing her. She was lying on her side facing away from me. Her knees were slightly bent, her body curling inward. Asleep, her fierce strength and courage were muted just enough to expose the fragility that she never wanted to acknowledge.

My throat tightened. I rose swiftly, stood for a heartbeat gazing down at her, and retreated to the bathroom.

As the shower heated, I stared out the tall windows, watching as sunlight crept up over the tops of the mountains and began flowing downward, driving the darkness ahead of it into the deepest crevasses.

I had almost fallen into one of those as a boy. It had happened all in a flash while on a skiing outing with my father. Without warning, the world had begun to slip away, stopped only by the rock hard grasp of his hand and the strength of his arm pulling me to safety. I hadn’t thought of that in years but the recollection was so real and immediate that I half-expected him to be standing beside me, paler than I had ever seen him, his mouth thinned but his voice unexpectedly gentle.

“Are you all right?” he had asked with no hint of rebuke, the shock of his own fear evident to me only now as memory.

I had assured him that I was with the easy confidence of a child who had yet to perceive the world as anything other than benign.

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