Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I don’t pull away.
I can’t.
Because some twisted, broken part of me… wants it too.
I’d bury his body and sleep like a fucking baby, Ember.
Rodion knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Rodion,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as his mouth drifts lower.
“Open your eyes, Ember.” His voice is rough, demanding.
I hesitate a second too long. His teeth sink into my shoulder to punish me. “Eyes on the glass, Ember.”
A desperate sound escapes me as I force myself to obey him. I want to push back, to challenge him, but I’m melting, and I want this escape so badly.
“Good girl,” he whispers, dragging his tongue along the mark he just made.
“You wanted this, didn’t you?”
I can’t answer.
Because… yes.
I did. I do. I want it still.
A part of me needs to push back, needs to fight him. A part of me needs to fight for control and have a little bit… just a little, taken from me.
But the moment his teeth sink into my earlobe, his breath hot against my skin, with the knowledge that if I disobeyed him right now, it would not go over well, and I would probably love whatever he did in response… the outside world floods in, cluttering my thoughts.
Loud. Unforgiving.
The cold glass is a shock against my skin. His teeth drag along my shoulder as if to remind me exactly what he’s capable of, that he’s holding himself back… and exactly who is in control.
I shudder against the glass, my breath fogging the surface in front of me. His grip tightens on my hips, a reminder I’ll feel tomorrow. The wedding gown is bunched around my waist, but he doesn’t care.
Neither do I.
“You’re shaking again, little queen,” he whispers. “You like this, don’t you?”
I nod wordlessly.
I bite my lip hard, trying to hold myself upright when my legs feel like jelly.
His hand trails down my stomach, then lower, teasing just under the hem of lace. I squirm, but he presses me harder.
“Don’t fight it, baby.” His words spread heat across my chest.
“Already so wet,” he murmurs, satisfied. “That’s my girl.”
My god, I love when he says that.
I can hardly breathe. My eyes flutter closed when emotion sweeps over me, but he claps a hand hard across my ass. “Eyes open, Ember. Wide open.”
He pulls my thighs apart, his hand sliding between them, and I hear the telltale whir of a zipper being undone.
I swallow and lick my lips, arching my back because I want him so fucking bad.
I cry out at the first perfect thrust, every nerve in my body alight.
“Louder,” he rasps, his grip on my hips brutal and intense as he pulls me back against him with every hard thrust.
I can’t stop the sound that escapes my lips, a mixture of moans and gasps. I don’t care who hears or sees; I need him.
“You see this?” he growls, his voice low and animalistic, making my need ratchet higher. “You’re mine. Fucking mine. No one will ever touch you again. No one will take what’s mine.”
His words cut through me, raw and possessive. The tension builds, my need to climax taking over.
“Rodion,” I breathe out.
I claw at the glass, nails scraping along the flat, cold surface, my body trembling as he drives into me.
“Come, little queen. Come for your king.”
Climax tears through me, flooding my body with euphoria. I cry and moan as he growls in my ear, his hot seed spilling into me, hips grinding into mine. I can hardly breathe, my chest heaving. If he didn’t hold me up right now, I’d fall to the floor, boneless.
I meet his gaze in the reflection.
The cold glass wakes me from a fog.
I just let him fuck me against a window where anyone could see, knowing full well that was his intent.
“Stop.” My voice is so low I’m not sure he hears me at first, so I say it again, louder this time. “Stop.”
“What’s wrong?” He pulls away from me and peers out the glass. “Did you see him?” His voice is laced with concern as he rights my dress and zips himself up. I swallow hard, untangling myself from him, but the miles of fabric make it clumsy and awkward.
“I can’t—this is too much.” I shake my head, stepping back from the window. I can’t stop shaking.
I can’t stop the flood of memories that assault me. It seems the harder I push them away, the harder they attack.
I’m brushing tears from my eyes and shaking my head.
Maybe book boyfriends are safer.
Maybe being alone is safer.
“Ember.” Rodion watches me carefully, his hands hanging loose by his sides.
I can’t look at him. Not now. I can’t.
Because the thoughts claw at my mind with vicious pain.
What if Shawn really is watching?
What if I’ve made a terrible mistake?
What if there is no escape?
I swipe my phone off the nightstand, ignoring Rodion’s look of concern. The messages stare back at me, but there’s another now.