Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Some of my sass takes a step back when the stranger places a bowl full of stew onto the bedside table then nudges his head to it. It smells delicious, and my stomach hasn’t quit growling the past three-plus hours, but I wasn’t lying when I said I’m no longer playing his games, so instead of eating the meal he prepared, I give him the stink eye to rival all stink eyes before rolling back over to face the only solid wall in the cabin.
“Ugh!” he grunts, clearly unimpressed by my denial. “Haw.” I feel his eyes on me for twenty long seconds before he adds hands into the mix.
“No!” I slap his hands off me before scampering up the bed as far as I can. “I don’t want your food. I want to go home.”
His eyes that suddenly appear more remorseful than dangerous, bounce between mine for two heart-thrashing seconds before he shakes his head while banging his chest with his fist. “Augh.”
When he twists away from me with balled-up fists, I think it’s the end of our confrontation.
I’m poorly mistaken.
In a quick twist, pull, and straddle maneuver, I’m yanked down the bed, my hips are cuddled by his thick thighs, and then my hands are pinned above my head by one of his highly nicked and scratched hands.
“What the hell are you doi—” With his free hand, he silences me for the second time today. Except this time, fear doesn’t shut me up. A chunk of meat does.
Even with it tasting delicious, I spit out the chunk of juicy goodness he stuffed into my mouth before peering up at him like I don’t fear him in the slightest.
He takes my barter and raises the stakes by straining a second piece of meat through my teeth, then clamping my mouth shut.
“Just because you put it into my mouth doesn’t mean I have to chew it,” I gabble out between a clenched jaw and closed lips.
I really need to consider my replies before responding to a deranged man. The flare darting through his eyes announces he took my warning as more of a challenge than a threat, not to mention the quirking of his lips.
“What are you doing?” I ask for the second time when he releases my mouth from his grip, my voice hitched with unease. I thought he would shovel food into my mouth until I had no choice but to swallow. Instead, he gobbles up the chunky product before he crushes it between his teeth long enough it couldn’t be anything more than mush.
When he arrows his head toward mine, his cheeks extra plump thanks to the slosh in his mouth, my sluggish brain finally clues on to what is happening.
After swallowing down the chunk of meat I stuffed behind my back molars, I furiously shake my head. “You can’t feed me like a baby bird. Do you have any idea how unhygienic that is? You could have anything in your mouth…” My words trail off when a faint memory trickles into my head. We’ve done this before. Many times. It’s how he kept me alive for three days. He fed me like a mother bird would her baby.
He spat in my mouth.
And for some inane reason, acknowledging that out loud isn’t as distressing as it should be. I may have died if he didn’t feed me, and although I wish he could have prepared my food with a mortar and pestle instead of his teeth, it’s kind of hot knowing how desperate he was to keep me alive.
“Okay, okay! I’ll eat!” I scream when his mouth narrows in so close to mine his beard tickles my chin and neck. It isn’t as rough as believed. It reminds me of a cashmere sweater that’s been worn too many times over the winter, so it isn’t as soft as it once was. “I’ll eat,” I promise when he notches back an inch and lowers his eyes to my lips. “See?”
After wrangling one of my hands free from his firm yet painless grip, I fish out a chunk of the meat from the bowl balancing on the flat space between my breasts I wish my chest didn’t have when I’m lying flat on my back, then pop it into my mouth.
“Uh.”
Confident his grunt is encouragement for me to eat another piece, I dig out a second generous portion, then slide it between my lips. It isn’t a hard decision to make considering how juicy and delicious the meat is. It is so tender it melts like butter in a sinfully hot mouth.
“Haw.”
And so the cycle continues until the bowl is empty, and my stomach is so rounded, the stranger has to distribute most of the weight of his large frame onto my pelvis to allow room for my stomach’s growth.