Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Oh God.
I didn’t come here for this…
But now, I wanted it.
The way his body pinned mine into the mattress, his breath on my skin, his lips whispering over my jaw with the gentleness of a lover’s touch.
I want it.
No, that was a lie.
I need it.
When he leaned down to my mouth, my eyes fluttered closed. I needed this more than I needed salvation. More than I desired redemption.
Killian took my lips, stole my breath from my lungs and swallowed my whimper as I gave myself to him. He drove his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, licking me from the inside. My tongue met his in a tentative dance and I wanted to sob.
My fingers curled into his dark hair and I cried into the kiss. The man who hated me with such cruelty was kissing me so… tenderly. Almost affectionately. Like I was a fragile treasure in his arms and he wanted to savor me.
I cried because I knew…
Killian wasn’t kissing me.
He was kissing the woman in his dreams, a ghost of his past.
I knew that, but I still kissed him back.
I stole his kisses because I was greedy and selfish.
So I took the kisses that didn’t belong to me because I was intoxicated by Killian. Drunk on him. Ravenous for the way his lips moved against mine; the way his tongue felt on mine, plunging into my mouth, wet and needy.
I wanted to break under his touch.
To feel powerless against his kisses.
To surrender under his body.
To forget the lies and the secrets, for my truth had ruined us enough.
Killian let out a pained groan and our lips separated. I inhaled a deep breath when he slumped over my body, the strength leaving him, and he sunk into unconsciousness again. His face was buried in my throat and I felt his breath on my skin, warm and soft.
Such a sweet fantasy but also a cruel reality.
Killian and I were an unfinished story, with no happy ending in sight. For we were more than a tragedy. We were an impending calamity; we were nothing but ugly together, wreaking havoc on our own souls. With our bare hands.
“I’m sorry.” The walls and the ghosts of this castle heard my whisper, my pain seeping through those two simple words.
The secrets that were buried with my sister were catching up to me, quickly. The lies I had webbed around us were crumbling.
Because my truth was that…
I fell in love with Killian Spencer when I was seventeen years old.
But I only ended up killing his heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Killian
“Should you be out of bed?” Julianna asked, finally breaking through the tension. Our forks and knives against our plates had been the only sound echoing through the walls of the dining hall for the last five minutes.
I took a slow sip of the champagne, Dom Perignon Rose Gold. My tongue tasted the layers of sweetness, and then tartness with one single sip, tantalizing to my tastebuds like I expected any expensive champagne to be. “Dinner every night, for thirty nights. That was your compromise,” I said, placing my champagne flute back on the table.
This morning Julianna and I spoke about the damage that took place last night. She told me that she didn’t have any personal enemies and she truly didn’t know why someone would try to kill her. None of it made sense.
I thought maybe it could be an enemy of Bishop Romano or maybe an enemy of the Spencer’s, but to so foolishly try and attack Julianna in plain sight? None of our enemies would be so stupid to do so. They were more… sophisticated than that.
But with the only suspect now dead, we had no leads.
Still, I’d doubled the security around the island. While we were still in the dark, we didn’t know if the maid was just insane and acted on her own – or if there had been someone else behind the shooting. A mastermind.
Whoever it was though… they wouldn’t attack again. Not any time soon. And especially not when we were now vigilant after their first failed attempt.
My side, where the wound had been bandaged, still ached like a motherfucker. Every time I breathed, it felt like someone was poking the wound, digging their finger in there. And sitting up straight wasn’t helping either. Sweat broke across my brow and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
I missed last night’s dinner because Samuel fucking drugged me, but I heard that Julianna was practically passed out too and she missed dinner. So, last night didn’t count.
But I wasn’t going to miss another dinner. A simple bullet wound wasn’t going to stop me.
Not if Julianna would use it against me and come up with another shitty compromise, making me dance to her tunes.
Not that I thought she would…
And it was definitely not because I somewhat enjoyed dinner with her every night. Her banter and her in-depth discourse about politics and really, anything in between.