Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
He stops me with a kiss.
I know why. I know I got a little too emotional for him. A little too expressive and lovey-dovey. Especially when he’s trying to fix things. When he’s trying to make me fall out of love with him.
But again, I’m tired of pacing. I’m tired of not being who and what I am: a hopeless girl completely and irrevocably and undeniably in love with him.
So if he can’t handle that, then he’s free to break my heart and move on. He’s going to do that anyway no matter what I do. So I might as well be myself. I might as well be clingy and annoying and shower him with all my love.
Because he needs that.
This lonely, complex man needs my love.
All my thoughts of love, or any thoughts for that matter, vanish, though, when he moves and adjusts himself. And then a second later, enters me in one go.
He rips into me like I asked him to.
But I know not because of why I asked him to.
He didn’t do it to make me bleed more, no. He did it because it’s better this way. It’s better to do it in one go rather than prolonging the torture. And he knows a lot about it, doesn’t he? Torture. Suffering through it and doling it out.
And I know that because as soon as he slams his way in, he stops. He hugs me. He hugs me oh so tightly. He hugs me like I’m really an angel and he’s the devil who made me fall from grace.
He hugs me like he will never let my dead body go.
He hugs me like he will never let me go.
And years later, I won’t even remember the pain. I won’t remember the blinding flash of it and how I jerked under him. I won’t remember how I scratched his sides or how I moaned so loud that I almost broke the windowpanes and let the winter in.
This is what I’ll remember, him hugging me with concern and despair.
And something that feels a lot like the thing he can’t feel: love.
I will remember how he called me baby and sweetheart over and over and told me that it’s going to be okay. That he’s sorry but he’ll make it all better now.
And he does too; I’ll remember that.
He gives me time to adjust to his size, his invasion, and when I have, he starts to move. It’s very slow and gentle. They’re tender, his movements. And for all my talk of him ripping into me and making it hurt and bleed, I’m glad he does it that way.
Because holy shit, he is big.
And sex hurts, man.
The first time, it really does.
So I’m glad it’s with a man who’s so careful. Who knows exactly what I need in this moment. And who despite wanting to move faster, goes really slowly for me. And I know that he does because of how insanely he’s vibrating right now. How everything in his body is so clenched, how every muscle is standing in stark relief.
Yes, I’m glad it’s with him.
Like I always wanted.
And then when I want him to move faster, he does that too. When my pussy is all adjusted to his size and turns needy once again, his strokes fasten. They become deeper and faster and oh so hotter. They become so hot that I’m sweating with the pounding he’s giving me.
I’m shaking and shuddering.
My wings all fluttery at my back.
I’m all swollen and slippery.
And so, so in love.
With my Wildfire Thorn.
Seriously, though, people who call him cold are crazy. He’s as hot as wildfire.
And now I feel him in my stomach. I feel his cock thicken inside of me, his skin turning darker and even more heated, and I know he’s about to come. I know what those bunched up muscles mean and just touching him and kneading those hard muscles of his, I come.
I explode around him and he explodes inside of me at the same time.
But mostly, what I’ll remember about our first time is that through all of this, through a slow fuck and a hard pounding, through my orgasm that overcomes me and then triggers his own, he never once stopped kissing me.
Chapter 9
Later That Night…
“Isn’t this amazing?” I chirp, looking up at the night sky.
“If by amazing,” he rumbles, “you mean insane, then yes, it is amazing.”
I tilt my head where it’s resting on his hard chest and look up at him. “You think this is insane?”
Snowflakes land on his face, in his hair. Even in his eyelashes. They’re super tiny and disappear as soon as they touch his hot skin but leave him all shiny and sparkly. So fucking beautiful. And in the midst of all that, there’s smoke wafting out of his mouth as he takes a drag in.