Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 29744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I can't listen to him suffer in silence again tonight, though. Last night was hard enough. He's still in so much pain, still haunted by things I can't even imagine. He spent most of today on the phone, making calls to try to help me. But the whole time, I couldn't help but wonder who fights for him? Who protects him? I have a feeling the answer is no one. He really is an island, fighting the storm on his own.
"Not anymore," I mutter, flinging my blankets back and climbing from the bed. I've never been much of a soldier. I know nothing about war. I'm barely keeping my head above water in my own battle. But if he can fight for me even through his, I'll fight for him through mine, too.
Tuesday lifts her head and meows at me in protest before closing her eyes again, too comfortable to move. She's a senior cat, far past her prime. I found her while I was busking downtown three years ago. She'd jumped into a trashcan in search of food and couldn't get out again. I brought her home with me and she's been with me ever since.
I pad toward the door to my room and slip out, pacing across the hall. A floorboard creaks faintly halfway between my room and his. It doesn't wake him though. Neither does the door opening. I stand in the doorway for a long moment, my eyes locked on the bed.
He's naked, moonlight spilling in from the windows and the skylight over his bed. The sheets are twisted around his powerful body like ropes holding him to the bed. He's restless, shifting this way and that as he fights the memories plaguing his sleeping mind.
"Ericson," he mumbles. "Goddammit, Ericson."
I push his door closed and cross toward him. "Ronan."
"Ah, Keller," he groans, his expression contorting. "I'm sorry. Christ, I'm sorry."j
A tear slips down my cheek.
"Ronan." I reach out, placing my hand on his arm to shake him.
As soon as my palm makes contact with his arm, his eyes pop open. For a long, silent moment, he stares right through me, still locked in the nightmare haunting his mind. And then he groans, a devasting, heartbreaking sound. He sits straight up, his hands encircling my waist as he yanks me toward him.
I topple onto the bed, landing on my back beside him. He rolls, coming down over me.
"Songbird," he breathes, his face shadowed from this angle. One shaking hand touches my cheek, his fingertips gentle as they collect the wetness there. "You're crying."
"You were having a nightmare. A bad one," I whisper.
He falls still on top of me, his gaze searching across my face. "You were crying for me?"
"Yes."
He whispers my name so softly I barely hear it, and then his lips are on mine. He doesn't kiss me sweetly this time. He kisses me as if he needs me to survive. The groan that vibrates from his lips is so full of desire, of desperation that it pulls an answering moan from somewhere deep in my chest. The ache I've felt since he touched me yesterday comes roaring back to the surface, hotter and hungrier than before. I gasp, reaching for him with both hands.
"Fuck," he growls against my lips, yanking my thigh up over his hip.
I gasp his name as his erection grinds against my clit, sending shockwaves through my system. I've never been touched there, let alone felt anything like him right there. He's hot and hard, his desire potent as he consumes me in a scorching kiss.
"Tell me to stop," he growls, breaking from my lips to kiss a hot trail down my chest. His teeth close around my nipple, pulling a sob from my lips.
"Don't stop," I sob, clawing at his strong shoulders. "Oh, God, Ronan. Don't stop."
He growls my name, sucking my nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth through my camisole. One rough hand glides down my body, yanking my shorts and panties to the side. His fingers brush across my wet slit.
"Tell me to stop," he growls again. "Goddammit, songbird. Tell me."
"No." I drag my eyes open, meeting his in the dim light. "Don't stop, Ronan. Don't ever stop."
He roars a curse, ripping my camisole right down the middle. I sob his name, tangled so tightly in a net of desire, I can't catch my breath. I can't think. All I see, all I feel is him. And I desperately want more. I need more.
He slips his erection between my legs, pumping his hips so the head of it drags against my clit. I sob in ecstasy. He growls, falling forward onto his forearms as he attacks my breasts with that wicked mouth. He nips and sucks, leaving a trail of love bites littered across my skin.
"These perfect little nipples," he growls. "Goddamn, songbird. I could suck on them all fucking night and still not be satisfied."