Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I know that, okay?” Her voice is angry, defiant. “You think I don’t see it?”
“I think you’re so poisoned by your parents that you don’t know what you see.”
She shoves me back, both hands on my chest. She heaves, glaring at me, teeth clenched together. “Don’t bring them into this.”
“Fine,” I say and move right back in front of her. She sucks in sharply and her fingers dig into my arms. “Tell me you don’t want this. Go ahead, say the words. I’m sick of dancing around how I feel.”
“How do you feel?” she whispers.
“I want you. I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
I tilt her chin. I stare into her eyes. “Want can turn into more. I can feel it. Can you?”
She says nothing. Her lips part. Those perfect lips. Her small, white teeth. Her scared, sad eyes. I lean closer and she closes the gap between us.
I kiss her hard and grip her hips and hold her against me, tired of pretending like this isn’t all I think about, like she’s not the whole reason I can’t let go.
Chapter 21
Sara
I hate the way he looked at me. I hate the pain in his voice. I hate how he flinches and grabs his ribs when he stands up too fast and most of all I hate the stupid looping voices in my head, the voices of my parents and everyone like them, my teachers, my babysitters, the voices of all the people that think they know better telling me to get away from this man, that Angelo’s poison, that he’ll kill me if I let him.
But if poison tastes this good then I’ll drink it all down and die happy.
He gathers me up and pulls me into the bedroom. My top comes off, my pants. His mouth and hands explore my skin, moving down my neck, to my breasts, to my hips. He shoves me onto the bed and licks my nipples before kneeling down before me.
I moan as his tongue laps me top to bottom and dig my fingers into his hair.
I should be scared of him. This man is everything I was taught to fear and to avoid. At Blackwoods, back when I was an undergrad, Brice and Robyn and I tried our best to stay far away from the dark side of the college. From the gangsters, the thugs, the kids with dirty money. I thought I was so much better than them. My hands were clean.
But nothing’s clean.
Nothing’s right.
There’s only people trying their best under bad circumstances.
There’s only what feels good.
There’s only this, with Angelo here in the bedroom, his mouth between my legs, the knee-shaking pleasure, the wetness of his lips and tongue on my soaking pussy. It’s animalistic, it’s intense, it’s pure.
This is all I want.
The world goes away. All those voices are silenced. In that silence, I feel him fill the void, the darkness where I’ve hidden myself away. His moans, his licks, his wet noises as he sucks me. Those cover me, wrap me up, let me float in pleasure and joy. I whimper for him and he growls, loving it. His fingers sink inside of me and I roll my hips, pushing my clit against his thumb as he comes up and kisses me. I taste pussy on his lips. My own taste on his tongue.
“When I wake in the morning, this is what I think about,” he whispers as his fingers keep going, in and out, fucking me to my rhythm as my hips work. Sweat rolls down my back. My breasts shake with each gasping breath. “I roll onto my side and think about you there next to me. I think about kissing your throat, holding you down, fingers deep between your legs just like this. I love the way you move your body, the moans you make, the pleasure in your eyes.”
“Angelo,” I groan and lean forward. I bite his lower lip. “Please.”
He knows what I want. I help him undress, trying to be as gentle as I can, but I’m impatient. Ugly, yellowing bruises mottle his chest and side, and I touch them gently, running my fingers over their misshapen lines. I kiss him slowly, along his wounded and mangled skin before I push him back onto the mattress.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispers as I stroke his cock and take him into my mouth. I roll my tongue along his tip and taste his precum before sliding him deeper into my throat. I gag and pull back, wiggling my hips, losing my mind. The way he looks at me drives me crazy and throws me to a level I never knew existed. I want his man, I want him so badly it hurts.
And I don’t care anymore.
I don’t care about the voices, about the disapproval in my mother’s eyes, about the disgust on my father’s face. I don’t care if I’m letting them down or wasting my potential or any number of ways I could fail. I don’t care, not anymore.