Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Genre: Urban-Fantasy Romance
Series: Immortals After Dark, #1
Publisher: Pocket Books
Hero: Nikolai Wroth
Heroine: Myst, the Coveted One
Date of Publication: November 22, 2011
Started On: January 15, 2019
Finished On: January 25, 2019
Immortals After Dark (IAD) series by Kresley Cole comes up on any romance reader’s radar, especially if the reader has a penchant for larger than life heroes and stories centered around mystical beings, vampires, shape-shifters etc. I have been meaning to sample this series for a while now, especially given the fact that the second book in the series has come up in recommendation lists I have gone through many times in search for romances featuring ruthless heroes. Anyone who knows my reading tastes well knows that I am a sucker for ruthless heroes.
The Warlord Wants Forever is the first book in the IAD series, and brings to readers the story of Nikolai Wroth and Myst, an immortal known as the Coveted One. The story begins five years prior to the actual setting, whereby Myst is held under captivity, and it is Wroth who “rescues” her. Wroth is a turned vampire, otherwise known as one of the Forebearers.
While Myst is captivated by Wroth and his fighting skills, she has lived far too long, known too many treacherous males to give in, just because she wants to rub her hands all over the male’s body and kiss his war scars. While vampire adults seek their Brides for all their lives, the Bride who becomes their eternal wife, and when they do find them, a process known as blooding occurs, which renders them alive and giving them a heartbeat, Wroth is misled at first by the fact that his body does not particularly react to Myst, even though he is drawn to her on a level he cannot explain.
Everything is complicated further given the fact that Valkyries, the species to which Myst belongs to, have been at war with the Forebearers for a long, long time. When Wroth finally recognizes Myst for who she is, his Bride for life, there is of course nothing that would stop him from claiming what is his, even if Myst herself were to try and delay the inevitable.
I quite do not know how I felt about the story at particular junctures, even though I enjoyed reading it. At times the story seemed a bit confusing, perhaps given the multiple characters that seemed to come and go at will.
Wroth was definitely one of a kind. There was a gentleness to him even with all the warring that he has seen his entire life, but at the same time there is a ruthless side to him that would not let Myst walk all over him. While Myst puts Wroth through abject misery, she does suffer the same, which was perhaps the saving grace for me when it came to her character. While I dislike heroines who lets a man walk all over them, I dislike a heroine who cannot make up their mind as well. It is after all, a double-edged sword.
Recommended for those that love urban-fantasy romances.
Final Verdict: This warlord can ask for forever, any damn time. Loved Wroth and all that he brought to the story.
My gods. She’d known Wroth was well endowed, but hard, he was like a demon or a Lykae.
He curved her fingers around his thick shaft and slowly thrust against her palm.
In a sensual whisper, she asked, “How does this feel when it swells and distends?” She stroked his length, relieved she’d never have to take his uncomfortable size within her.
“So damned good,” he grated with a shudder,.
Her back arched, pressing her breasts to his gorgeous mouth. To his wicked tongue. When had she begun undulating her hips for him?
“I’ve waited for you,” he rasped against her breast. “So long I’ve waited.”
One hand pinned her wrists above her; the other shot up her skirt and ripped her panties away. His fingers roved between her thighs, hot and slow. “As soon as I saw you, I wanted it to be you.”
She went soft in his grasp. Raising her arms, she locked her hands behind his head.
With a growl of approval, he kicked her feet apart. He thrust violently against her ass. Once, twice . . . He threw back his head and yelled.
Just before he came, he turned to spill his seed on the ground.
Low, guttural sounds erupted from his chest. As he clenched her, his shudders of pleasure went on and on. . . . Each moment reminded her how badly he’d needed this.
Somehow she knew. She raised her head. Silvery eyes riveted to his, she worked her fist on his engorged cock. She pumped it in time with her thrusting fingers—as if she yearned for him to fill her.
That thought sent him over the edge. He cupped her beautiful face when the unbearable pressure exploded. He bellowed, “Myst!” and began to ejaculate. Mindlessly, he bucked his hips, fucking her fist. Anything to lose his seed. Ropes of it arced across his torso.
His palms landed with a slap on her upper thighs, lifting her pelvis. He used his thumbs to spread her folds, then wrenched her down on his thick shaft.
He gave an inhuman yell; she cried out from his size. He’d buried himself deep in her core. She grimaced in pain as it throbbed inside her.
He’d bested her. Myst will want the first man who can defeat her. The Lore had always whispered that about her. She’d challenged Wroth, and he’d won. In her mind, he deserved to claim his prize.
No matter the consequences.
Never slowing, he positioned himself on his knees and maneuvered her to straddle him.
His body was so big compared to hers, making her feel truly vulnerable. As if he’d read her mind, he tightened his arms around her, trapping hers at her sides.
Completely captured. This position allowed no evasion. So she relaxed in the crushing vise of his arms; her breasts swelled against his heaving chest.
He bucked his hips up. And again. Keeping her body immobile, he started to fuck like a piston.
A savage bite made her scream again, her body hurtling into a second release. Her core clenched him, milking his cock.
She was still coming when he released his bite. He threw his head back, cords of muscles in his neck and chest strained. The force of his ejaculation tore a bellow from his lungs.
She felt him shooting hot semen inside her, endless jets. He yelled to the sky as he pumped and pumped his release. . . .
Then after-shudders. He loosened his hold on her, though she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want this to end.
He replaced his thumb with one, then two fingers. Thrusting them, he said, “In my dream, I do fuck you. But I start slowly, feeding my cock into you inch by inch. When you’re dripping wet and ready, I fuck you with all the strength in my body.”
She raised her ass even higher. “What do I do?” she breathed.
“You come again and again from no command, just from pleasure.”
Yet the crown was barely inside her when lightning exploded outside—because she was already coming. “Wroth!” She clawed furrows into the wall. “Now!”
“I am . . .” he groaned, straining his every muscle to enter her slowly, to make this good for her—
His eyes widened when her claws sank into his ass to yank him into her.
“Hard!” she demanded in a throaty voice.
He choked out, “Don’t hurt.” He forced his cock through the squeezing spasms of her climax—as if through a clenched fist.