Year Four (Kingmakers, #4)

by Sophie Lark

“Oh shut the fuck up, you kettle-calling pot.”

I feel like an animal that wants to bite and claw and fuck. I want to chase her down, throw her against those rocks, and mount her.

I don’t think he’s gentle at all. I only think he’s careful.

“It took me six tries,” she admits. “I almost gave up.” “Why didn’t you?” I ask her. “Because,” she says as if it’s obvious. “I never give up.” “Right,” I say. “I should have known.”

I have the horrible, panicked feeling that she knows. That she’s talking about me, not her father.

Every place he touches me seems to come alive, warm and throbbing,

The blood in my veins rushes at the same pace, spreading warmth to my fingertips and toes, making my whole body throb.