Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
He bites my lip and pulls my hair, tugging my head back so that my lips slide off his, giving him full access to my bare neck. I brace myself on his shoulders as he drags his mouth along my throat. “Do they have surveillance cameras in the surveillance room?” I ask, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears.
He smells like snow-capped mountains, clean and brisk and so masculine, I’m boneless in his hands.
“No,” he mutters into the crook of my neck. I shiver at the warmth of his breath on my sensitive skin. “Jesus, woman, you’re gorgeous. What I want to do to you…”
“Mmm,” I murmur, pressing my core against his erection. That earns me another delicious, firm slap to the ass. “What I want you to do to me. I mean, let’s be honest, Timeo. I am not fucking around with you at this place when anyone else is here. I’d rather poke my eyes out with tweezers than do anything… like that… in my sister’s sex club. But now that we’re alone… and you have full access to the cameras… and shutting them off…”
I lose the ability to talk as his rough hands find the edge of my top. Just the feel of his palms on my naked skin beneath my top makes me moan out loud. Oh, God, yes. The tops of his thumbs stroke beneath the fullness of each breast, only a tease before he pushes the silky fabric up and traces the bare skin.
“I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he growls. “So fucking long, Starla. The only goddamn thing that kept me going when I was in captivity was imagining… this.”
“Me sitting on your lap?” I tease, as I bring my hands to his back and ease his tee up. Oh, God, I love the feel of his hot, taut skin beneath my hands, the strength of his muscled back, and the way he holds me tighter when my hands touch his bare skin. “You imagined me straddling you in the surveillance room?”
“You, baby,” he says with a laugh, nodding. “Anywhere, anytime, it was the only thing that I held onto.”
A strange tightness chokes me.
Not his family.
Not the brotherhood.
Not his duty or loyalty.
Me.
“Timeo.” My voice is all trembly before his mouth closes on mine. Time ceases to exist as we kiss lazily. My heart soars and sings and swells.
Timeo wants me as badly as I want him.
And no one can stop us.
I hiss in a breath when he lifts up my bra, the fullness of my breasts cupped in the palms of his hands. I stop breathing.
“Aren’t you hurt, though?”
“Fucking scratch,” he says, even though I know he was on serious pain meds and those rib injuries were no laughing matter. But I know he’s been hurt a lot worse than this.
“Are you crying, Starla?”
Am I?
I swipe at my cheeks, surprised to find them wet. “I didn’t mean to… they’re not… I don’t think they’re sad tears.”
Timeo cradles my head in his hands and stops my mouth with his. It doesn’t matter who he is. It doesn’t matter who I am. It doesn’t matter who’s plotting against us or what danger lurks around the next corner. All that’s left is me and Timeo. All that’s left is us.
I relish every touch of his hands. The slightest brush of his tongue on mine makes me moan, my pulse racing.
“Still a virgin,” he rasps in my ear before he nips the lobe. “I can’t fucking believe you saved yourself, baby.” Bringing his mouth to my ear, his warm breath tickles my skin when he whispers, “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”
“Hopefully… everything,” I say in a breathy whisper. “Everything.”
“You mean that?” he says in a growl that kicks my heartbeat up.
“Of course. It’s… it’s you.”
I trust him with my life. What could he possibly do to me that I couldn’t trust him with?
“But we’re in a sex club…" he says in a voice that’s half warning, half promise.
Are you, now? Let’s see about that.
I open my mouth to reply when he lifts my top completely off. The balled-up fabric loosens my phone in my back pocket, and it clatters to the floor, the home screen plastered with notifications. He reaches for it.
“Don’t!” I protest, reaching at the same time. If he sees my screen — if he sees even one notification —
Oh God.
It’s too late. He’s got my phone in his hand. He was trying to do me a favor, and now –
He grows still beneath me. My breathing accelerates.
“Give me my phone, please,” I whisper, but I know it’s too late when his gaze darkens.
I don’t know what he saw or what he’s thinking, but I know him well enough to know I’m fucked.
“Here,” he says, handing me my phone.