Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 95765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Whole again.
It feels strange to undress for her. Strange to see her wonderment as she trails her fingers down my tattoos.
“So many,” she whispers.
“A whole pile more secrets,” I say. “Each one tells a story. Some of them happier than others.”
“I want to hear them all.” She smiles. “I want to know everything.”
She wriggles out from under me even as her mouth is on mine. It’s tempting to hold her firm and make her appease the throb in my fucking dick, but I don’t. I let her up. She kneels before me, eye to eye, before she dips her head.
She’s so careful as she kisses my collarbone and sweeps her fingers down my back. My skin itches, but I let it. Today, I don’t fight it.
“May I?” she asks.
I love how she asks for permission.
I’m tempted to say no just to hear her beg.
But I don’t.
Not tonight.
“You can have everything you want,” I tell her. “Just know that I’ll take your everything in return.”
She smiles against my neck. Her fingers are soft in my hair.
“My everything is already yours,” she says. “I just wasn’t sure you wanted it.”
Oh, how I fucking want it.
I close my eyes as she moves behind me.
Thirty-Three
I’ve cried, and you’d think I’d be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
Conor Oberst
Abigail
I tell myself I’m prepared for this. But I’m not.
I’m not prepared for the way his scars take my breath, or the way my heart bursts at the reality of his pain. I’m not prepared for the way I want to hold his wounds to my chest and never let go.
“I still feel it burning sometimes,” he says. “I guess I always will.”
My fingers dance down his spine, and my mouth follows them. He shivers as my lips kiss his ruined flesh.
I want to tell him how I get it. I want to tell him how I wake up some mornings convinced the blood is still running down my thighs faster than I can wipe it away. How I still feel the cramps as I bleed out on that hospital gurney.
How I still remember the moment the baby in my belly slopped out like offal onto the hospital floor as I tried to lift myself onto the commode.
But I don’t say a word. Not as my fingers sweep across the taut skin on his shoulder and trail down his arm. Not as I kiss the marks the fire left on him, loving them just as much as the rest of him.
“It is as hideous as you thought?” he asks.
“I never thought it would be. Your scars are as beautiful as the rest of you.”
He laughs. “That’s quite a statement.”
“Didn’t really think you’d scare me off that easily, did you?”
He twists back to look at me. “No. I didn’t.”
I smile. “I’m kinda liking this lights-on thing. Maybe we can keep it running.”
“Maybe I should start chasing you in the daylight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe.”
“Be careful what you wish for. You might end up naked in front of your friends at your next barbeque.”
“You’d have to catch me first.” I stick my tongue out.
I squeak as he pounces, flipping to pin me flat before I’ve moved an inch. “I haven’t struggled to catch you so far.”
“There’s time,” I whisper.
“All the time in the world,” he says and my belly flutters so hard I could fly.
I squirm to get my hands free, and he gives me enough leeway to slide my fingers down the back of his jeans. “I want you naked,” I say.
“I want your pretty mouth around my cock,” he says back.
I’m on my knees and waiting even as he gets to his feet. My mouth is open as he drops his pants and presents the beast for my viewing.
His fingers are gripped tight around his shaft, just like on his photograph. The barbells glint in the lamplight as he works his fist up and down.
It’s monstrously beautiful. My fingers look tiny as he wraps them around the base of him.
I love the way his piercings feel against my thumb. The bumps of metal under his skin feel alien. They clip my teeth as I suck him into my mouth.
“Good girl,” he says and wraps his fingers in my hair.
I’m a slavering wreck in one thrust. My throat heaves at the pressure as he pushes deep.
But I take it.
I’ll always take it.
There’s a tenderness in the way his thumb brushes my cheek. A warmth in his eyes as he stares down on me, even as I choke and splutter.
He pulls away as I feel him tightening in my throat. The bumps tickle my tongue.
“Now I want to see everything,” he says. “On your back, spread that hungry little cunt for me.”
How I love his filthy fucking mouth.