Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I shut off my brain. I didn’t want to think, only wanted to feel. Sex was the only time when I felt something akin to freedom and happiness. Maybe it was wrong, but I was determined to cling to anything that helped me through the near future. I pumped his length fast and worked the tip between my lips. Soon Growl started to pump slightly, driving himself deeper into my mouth. I let him and then he tensed, letting out a guttural sound. I tried to swallow everything but a few drops ran down my chin. Growl hoisted me to my feet and claimed my mouth for another kiss. I kissed him back, wanting him to taste himself like I did. When he pulled back, we were both panting and sweating.
Growl let go of my shoulders and took another step back, just like that building the wall between us again. “Let’s have breakfast. I’m starving.” His voice was even deeper than usual. His eyes held mine for a couple of seconds more. He wanted to say something, it was clear on his face, but then he turned around and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping for exactly. Sometimes I wasn’t sure what I wanted. In the beginning everything had been about making Growl trust me so I could use him for my purposes, but now there was more.
I shouldn’t wait for something that was never going to happen. And what was even more important: I shouldn’t long for something that was so wrong. I couldn’t allow myself to forget why I was here, even if pretending made life easier. But I was a prisoner. Growl practically owned me, and even if he ever decided to let me go, which I doubted he’d ever do, no one in our world would touch me after I’d been with Growl, much less marry me. I was stained. Not fit for a good match anymore. I could never return to society. Las Vegas was dead for me. I leaned back against the sofa. A wave of loneliness was about to claw its way out of my chest again.
I caught Coco watching me. She looked confused. “I don’t understand any of this either,” I whispered. She tilted her head to the side. A small smile tugged at my lips at her confusion.
I pushed to my feet. I wasn’t going to drown in self-pity. It wasn’t like I needed or wanted Growl’s affection or closeness. Sex was a means to an end. It helped me feel better and it helped me understand Growl better. If I wanted a chance at manipulating him into letting me go and helping my family, I’d have to use any tricks I had.
Growl
His dogs didn’t like humans. Even he’d had to fight a long time for them to trust him. But Cara, they seemed to love her. If dogs were even capable of that kind of emotion. Growl was certain that the majority of humans weren’t either. They liked the idea of love, but never reached that level with someone.
Love. A silly notion. And dangerous. Horrible things had been done in the name of love. Or the idea of it.
Growl didn’t think he’d ever felt anything like it. At least he couldn’t remember. Perhaps he’d loved his mother when he’d been a small kid. He’d gotten a scar for it.
Love.
It wasn’t something he could comprehend.
Cara. That woman.
He felt something. But he didn’t know what it was. He’d never felt like this before.
She made him want to treat her right. She made him want to be better. She made him want so many things he shouldn’t want.
She was dangerous to him, to the life he’d built, to the person he’d become.
She wanted him to go against Falcone, against everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. That was why she let him touch her and why she sometimes smiled at him, why she talked to him and accepted his closeness. There could be no other explanation.
He knew that, and still he was like a moth drawn to her light. The only light that had ever penetrated the darkness that was him and his life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cara
“There’s something you should know.” Growl leaned against the kitchen counter as he so often did. He almost never sat down, as if he always wanted to be prepared to run. Though in his case attack was probably more accurate. But his gaze worried me. Something told me I wouldn’t like what he had to say. “Ok,” I said slowly. “What is it?” So many horrible things had happened in the last few weeks, there wasn’t much left that could devastate me, and then fear struck me. “Is it about my mother or sister? Has Falcone decided he doesn’t need them anymore?”
Growl frowned as if he couldn’t imagine how I could have drawn that conclusion. Perhaps worry for others was something entirely foreign to him.