Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I stood almost toe-to-toe with him. “I know she was being groomed, and she didn’t even know it. She was living in that filth. It would’ve taken one bored night where she went upstairs and had a drink with them. One drink. One drug. A second night of drugs. More and more until she forgot why she was with them in the first place, until she was desperate and would’ve done anything. Or she would’ve started while she was high, out of it enough where they could use a camera on her. Right?”
I reached out, my heart jumping all over the place, but my arm steady.
I shouldn’t have, but I touched his chest.
His heart was racing just like mine, unsteady and erratic. Out of control.
I licked my lips and stared at his chest as it rose and fell under my palm. “You said no one was in the house, but that wasn’t true, was it?” I didn’t wait for the answer. I didn’t need it this time. “You had those people killed, and you burned down the house to destroy the evidence.” My eyes lifted to his now. “Didn’t you?”
He stared right into me, slipping past my walls, my barriers to see me naked and stripped bare for him. But I saw him, just as much as he saw me.
Slowly, he reached up until his hand curled around my neck.
He pulled me close, crushing my hand between us, and as he bent for my lips, he said, so softly, “You’re goddamn right I did. And I’d do it again.”
Then his mouth fused with mine.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
No words. None at all.
Just right now.
Need. Want. Claim.
Mine.
Our mouths battled, both of us trying to dominate the other. I was almost bursting with need.
I needed to feel him.
I needed to touch him.
I needed to claim him.
I didn’t care where we were. We could’ve been in the middle of the street, but I needed his touch on me, his body on me, his everything on me.
I needed him. My feelings were hot. They were demanding. They were dirty and complicated. They were everything in the gray part of life.
As we pushed against each other, our mouths laying claim, he ripped off my shirt. My pants. I dragged my nails over his, trying to tear it off.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hand sliding between our bodies, pushing inside my underwear, and then finally me.
I paused, gasping for air as I felt him inside of me. I’d been thirsting for this touch from him since he left. The time away, the day, had been too long, and everything was muddied around me.
When he was in me, the world righted. I wasn’t confused anymore.
It was him. It was me. It was whatever this was between us, and as a second finger joined the first, I arched backward from the pleasure pulsating through me.
He moved his fingers, owning me, and his mouth trailed over my exposed throat, my chest, to my breast, then to the other. He suckled, tasted, licked, caressed.
God. I loved this man.
I hated him, but I loved him, and clamping a hand to the back of his head, I knew my need for him wouldn’t be satiated with just one time. It’d be over and over again until I couldn’t walk, until I couldn’t crawl, until I couldn’t even think about moving again.
That time might never come.
I knew, as his mouth switched to my other breast and his fingers pumped inside of me, that I was gone.
I growled, grabbing for his pants. I took out his cock and wrapped my hand around it.
If he owned me, I would own him too. It’d go both ways, or I would burn everything down around us.
I wound my legs around his waist, and he had a moment’s notice to pull his fingers out. He caught me under my ass, and I lowered myself over him, sheathing him inside of me.
He held me, our eyes meeting, and we gasped at the sensation. I began moving up and down.
The surprise was gone. His eyes went black, and his hands tightened. He crashed me into the wall, pinning my hands above my head. His mouth went to my throat, and he began to suck, making me feel things I didn’t know a person could.
I moaned, my legs tightening around his waist.
He moved my hands together, securing them with one of his, and his free hand went to my clit. He rubbed and teased as he took control, as he thrust in and out of me, pushing, shoving almost violently.
I could only hiss out, “Yesssss” through my teeth. I was blind with desire and drunk with pleasure.
Something crashed to the floor.
He kept thrusting in me, deeper and deeper.
He was making me his, but when had I not been? Really? Then his mouth found my breast again, and I was gone, lost in the darkness of our coupling.