Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Abel…”
He groans, sucking on my neck and bunching up my dress. My core pulses and I’m so close to giving in but I need to be strong. I need us to come together without any unease in my heart.
“Abel, stop. Wait a second…”
“Come on, Pixie. I don’t care that you’re bleeding. I just need inside you.”
Okay, that’s gross. I don’t tell him that I’m not, in fact, bleeding, but we’ll discuss that later. He’s gotten my dress up to my waist now, baring my lower half, and I clutch his wrist. “Abel, stop. Not right now.”
“Trust me, baby, I can feel it tonight.” He rasps, rocking into me, placing soft kisses on the line of my shoulder traveling down to my exposed breastbone.
“Feel what?”
“That tonight’s the night. I’m gonna breed you tonight.” His cock grows super hard, then. It presses into my stomach, as if pressing into my womb through the layers of clothing and muscles and bones. “Imagine what they’ll say then, huh? Your mom’s gonna lose her shit.”
Suddenly, there’s a roaring inside my ears. My blood’s beating through my veins too rapidly.
Imagine what they’ll say then, huh? Your mom’s gonna lose her shit.
I forgot.
I forgot my pills. I haven’t taken them in days.
How did I forget? How did this happen? How long have we been slipping? Falling apart. With no one to save us.
Just falling.
Oh God, I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up because I know it in my bones: I’m pregnant. I can feel it. I know it like I know my own name, which is Evie.
It’s not fucking Pixie.
Abel’s breathing loudly, panting in my neck, pulling the zipper of his jeans down with one hand and with the other, he’s holding my dress around my waist.
“This is our ultimate revenge, Pixie. Me getting you knocked up is our ultimate fuck you.”
Somehow, I get the energy even when my head is spinning and I shove him off. I can’t do this.
“Pixie?”
“I have to go.”
I straighten my dress and try to move away from him but he doesn’t let me. Of course, he doesn’t let me. Of course, he doesn’t give me space. He never gives me space. He’s so big and overpowering that there isn’t any space left.
“What the fuck, Pixie? What’s happening?”
“I want you to let me go,” I say, with gritted teeth. I don’t want to fight in front of the whole world.
A frown mars his forehead. There’s lust in his eyes still. But it’s vanishing by the moment, the brown color emerging. The beautiful brown color that makes me forget everything but him. He clenches his jaw and plants his feet wide. A show of defiance and authority.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
It makes me so mad, I’m shaking. My breaths are uneven. Fuck not fighting in front of the whole world. I shove his chest with my free hand. I shove him hard, almost screaming, “Abel. Let me go.”
“Not until you tell me what the fuck is happening.”
“What’s happening is that you think a baby is a joke. You think knocking me up is revenge. What’s happening is that even after telling you no, a thousand times right now, you don’t stop. You’ve lost all control.”
“I’ve lost all control, huh, Pixie?” He scoffs, his grip flexing around my wrist.
“My name is not Pixie. It’s Evie.”
My voice is loud. Super loud, and when his face crumples and loses its harshness, I feel like someone is squeezing my heart and I can’t breathe. Stepping back, he lets go of my hand.
No, no, no. I don’t want him backing down. I don’t like him this way.
He spreads his arms open, as if he’s embracing the whole city and no one at all, at the same time. “Well, you’re right, Pixie,” he emphasizes my name and I’m back to being angry again. “Welcome to my fucking world. A world of no control. I gave it up the moment I saw you on that field. You took it from me. Stole it. I didn’t even know the meaning of it. Didn’t understand why the fuck my heart was beating like someone jacked it up. Why I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I understood nothing except this compulsive need to seek you out. To be near you.”
His arms fall to his sides and his fingers form a fist. “I didn’t care that your mom thought I was a piece of shit. I didn’t care that people wouldn’t look me in the eye, that hardly anyone talked to me. Because the only thing that mattered to me was you. I had no choice but to take the hatred. I had no choice but to die a little every time they took you away from me, grounded you, kept you locked up so I couldn’t see you. I had no control over my feelings. No choice but to burn in your love.