Harem of Souls: A Reverse Harem Romp (Stairway to Harem Book 4) by Emma Dawn

Author:Emma Dawn [Dawn, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buttercup Publishing
Published: 2017-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

A Treehouse Made for Two

The treehouse I’d seen in my head was exactly what had come to life for me, at least the bits and pieces I could see through my eyes partially squinted shut. The floors were tiger striped wood, the walls were solid, and over the windows was a thick netting that would keep the bugs out. There was a massive bed on one side of the place that was just the mattress, no frame, and around it was strung more netting, little glowing lights and candles hung from the ceiling.

“Fairy princess,” I murmured.

“You wanted a fairy princess treehouse?” He laughed, but it wasn’t mean at all. “Well, you got it, sweetheart. You got it in spades.”

There was a dining table and chairs set up and he strode to it, laying me on the table. “I’m going to have to cut your clothes off to see if you have any other wounds—”

I beat him to it, imagining my clothing melting off like I did in the mountain with Mars.

Jessop grunted as though I’d hit him. “Well, that’s one way to do it.” His hands swept over me with the precision of a doctor. I must have muttered the word.

“No, I’m not a doctor, never was. But I’ve been in a lot of battles in my life and learned to stitch my friends back together.” His hands pinched over the wound in my thigh and I squirmed under the pressure of his fingers. “Sorry, Rose. This is not going to be pleasant no matter how I do it. I have to stitch this wound closed and then there is a smaller one on the back of your calf.”

Both times I’d been bumped in the water then, I’d not been bumped, but tasted?

I groaned and flipped an arm over my face which was about as much energy as I could muster. “Just do it.”

There was the sound of his jacket coming off and I felt the whoosh of air from the movement of him throwing it down. Then his hands were back on the wound in my thigh. “Here we go.”

The first press of the needle was a double hit. Two needles at once? What was this madness? I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep the whimper trapped in my throat. It took me a few moments of breathing slowly, of letting the pain go through me that I realized he wasn’t stitching me closed with a real needle or even two needles.

Two fangs . . .he was stitching me closed somehow with his mouth.

I lifted my arm and glanced down. His head was at my thigh and I clamped my eyes shut. Nope, I did not need to see this, as long as it got the job done.

“How is that working, exactly?” I blurted the words out.

He paused. “My teeth and mouth have anti-coagulants embedded in them. It’s not pretty, but I can practically close any wound.”

I threw my arm back over my eyes. “I trust you.

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