Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“I should walk out that door and never see you again,” I grunted, grazing my mouth over hers, the cotton keeping us chaste.
“You could…” She sucked in a breath at how close I was. “But I’d really rather you stayed.”
“Because you think there’s a debt between us?”
“Because you helped me, and I want to help you.”
Help.
God that word could mean so much.
My head swam. My self-control quickly eroded with every chug of my pulse. With her willingly blinded and surrendered and trusting and mine…the pieces of me that clung to right and wrong, good over bad, cracked, broke, and shattered.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed just as my hands locked around her hips and marched her backward.
She squeaked as I manhandled her to the wall beside the fridge. “Sorry for what?”
I fought my quaking as I yanked my mask down, cupped her cheeks, and trapped her with my body. “For this.”
And then, I lowered my head, tipped up her chin, and kissed her.
The second my lips claimed hers, the box TV in the living room turned on, hissing with static and snow. Peng meowed. The curtains fluttered. And a bolt of lightning shot from my heart to Sailor’s.
We both groaned.
Her hands flew up to fist in my hair.
Mine shifted to the back of her head, cradling her so I could kiss her as hard as I wanted.
I didn’t stop to make sure she was okay.
I couldn’t stop.
The protective part of me drowned beneath a possessive asshole who wasn’t satisfied with a simple kiss.
It wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough because I wanted goddamn everything.
Licking the seam of her lips, I plunged my tongue into her chocolate-flavoured mouth.
Sagging against me, she yanked my hair, demanding harder.
I delivered.
We became as unhinged as the other, our heads dancing, tongues knotting, lips wide, and breath ragged.
My hands dropped from her nape to her waist.
Not breaking the kiss, I shoved her up the wall and groaned as she wrapped her legs around my hips, connecting us, punishing us.
Grinding against her, the kiss turned demonic as we fought a war of lust, tripping straight into violence with every lash of our tongues.
I lost myself to her, to her kiss, to her power.
My hips surged up, rocking, needing.
The release I’d given myself roared back into agony. It burned through me, deleting all rationality, turning me inhuman.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
Couldn’t fight instinct anymore.
Gathering her into my arms, I carried her into the living room. Wrenching my mouth from hers, I kicked away the coffee table, dumped her unceremoniously on the couch, then blanketed her with my body.
The TV kept hissing, the cat stopped meowing, and the breeze that shouldn’t exist rippled over my arms.
I fell on her and kissed her with years of pent-up longing, decades of agonising desire, and lifetimes of denial.
And she kissed me back.
Lick for lick, bite for bite.
Our teeth clacked. Our noses bumped. I’d never kissed someone this deeply or madly before.
And I didn’t want to stop.
I want more.
Keeping one hand on her waist pinning her to the couch, I used my other to stroke down her body. She arched and quivered as my fingers drew a path of fire between us.
I had no capacity to ask for permission.
I’d gone past the point of sanity.
My fingers found her flat stomach; they burrowed down the front of her tantalising short shorts. My eyes flared wide as I found hot wetness instead of underwear. Angling my wrist, I plunged my tongue into her mouth just as I plunged a finger into her pussy.
She went bowstring tight beneath me. Quivering, gasping.
I had just enough brain cells to grunt against her lips, “Tell me to stop, and I stop.”
With a savage little cry, she scratched her fingernails over my scalp and jerked me back to her mouth again. Her legs flopped wide in blatant invitation, the tightness of her shorts trying to cut off the circulation to my hand as I added a second finger and rode her.
I didn’t go slow like last time.
I’d learned what she liked.
I’d gone to school in the dark of her bedroom and understood that a girl like Sailor—a girl who’d been hurt and lived alone and spent most of her life being responsible for her own well-being—couldn’t find pleasure if she had time to think about it.
Her worries had snuck in that night. Her whirling mind had been loud enough for me to hear her fears of what she should and shouldn’t do. How she should behave versus letting go.
Milton had tried to kill everything about this woman from her strength to her self-worth, and I had no intention of letting her second-guess her own power.
Kissing her as hard as I could, I pressed my thumb against her clit and thrust.
She screamed into my mouth then turned into a creature I could barely hold without being seriously mauled. Her teeth clamped onto my bottom lip as I thrust inside her.