Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
She continues breathing heavily like she’s teetering on the edge of panic. Her chest rising and falling so rapidly that I’m almost worried.
“Nobody’s ever taking you away from me,” I whisper, taking her face in my bloodstained hands.
She doesn’t flinch away. She wouldn’t. She can handle anything I give her because she was made for me. She was made for this.
“Nobody ever will.”
She couldn’t have chosen better words. Desire for her is always coursing through my veins, but mixed with the adrenaline still present? It’s a potent combination, powerful enough to leave me practically dragging her into the hotel. My queen, my prize. I must get her back to the suite. I need to taste victory, to claim her again. Mine, mine alone.
She doesn’t say a word until we’re in the elevator. “Ren—”
I back her into the corner, caging her in with my frame, indulging my hands in the feel of her skin as I work them under her dress.
Nothing can stop me. No one.
Which is why the tensing of her body leaves me growling, our noses touching. Only when she cringes when I attempt to work my fingers between her thighs do I demand an answer.
“What? Afraid of a little public play?”
She tries to turn her face away, eyes closed, but she’s no match for my hand on her jaw, turning her to face me. Escaping me is futile; doesn’t she already know this? Maybe she needs to be reminded.
It’s then I see the problem. My hands, the blood dried and flaking off the bruised knuckles. Instantly, I release her, and when I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall, there’s no missing the flecks of blood on my shirt.
I wouldn’t sully my angel with this asshole’s blood if my life depended on it. He wasn’t even a worthy adversary. There was no chance of him taking her from me.
A better idea stirs in the back of my mind when the elevator chimes, signaling we’ve reached our floor. She follows wordlessly—there’s no mistaking the energy crackling between us, though, certain of where the night will end. Unworthy adversary or not, I fought and nearly killed someone for her.
She’s still scared. I can feel it, smell it on her, but something else lingers beneath. The thrill. Her arousal is thick by the time I swipe the key card in the lock to our door. Yeah, she might be afraid, but she’s equally turned on.
“Take that off. All of it,” I mutter, bolting the door before crossing the suite. The fact that she doesn’t need to ask why or what I have in mind stirs a smile as I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
“We should really talk about what just happened.” Her tone irritates me, like a mother scolding her child.
“I thought I told you to take your clothes off?”
She stops in the doorway, shaking her head like the brat she can be. I ought to know. “We have to talk first.”
“What is there to talk about?” I meet her gaze in the mirror before peeling off my shirt. “Unless you wish I would’ve let that piece of shit take you from me.”
“That wouldn’t have happened, and you know it.” She crosses her arms over her chest—defensive body language if I ever saw it.
“You’re lucky I know it wouldn’t have happened, or I might not believe you.”
“Ren…” The scolding tone is gone, replaced with sadness or maybe concern. I’m not really sure. “You can’t go through life beating the shit out of everybody who looks at me in a way you don’t like. You’re going to get yourself hurt eventually, and for what?”
“It’s pretty simple.” I lather up my hands at the sink, now slightly aware of the stinging sensation in my knuckles but ignoring it. “Somebody looks at you or talks to you the wrong way. I make them regret it. No khaki-wearing asshole will talk that way to my angel and get away with it.”
She slumps a little, staring at the floor. “It’s not going to end well.”
“Let me worry about that.” I shake my hands off before turning to her. “One thing I won’t do is make excuses. I won’t explain myself, either.”
“I know that,” she whispers. I have to wonder, or else why did she start this? “I worry, that’s all. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
“I can’t think of a better reason.” Nor can I think of anything I want to do more than strip her bare using my teeth. None of her scolding and worrying has so much as touched the blazing heat that leaves my cock stiff with yearning. Only she can extinguish the raging inferno.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Pushing away from the sink, I begin unbuckling my belt. “Now, I believe I told you to take your clothes off. And I was serious about that, too.”