Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
My gaze shifts to the mirror. Three panels in the corner. Another on the door. It gives me a perfect view of my back, ass, legs.
I don't usually focus on how my body looks. Yes, I dress to impress. I style my hair. I make sure my clothes fit.
Yes, I take care of myself with healthy food and long walks. Sometimes, I manage an actual workout.
But I don't obsess over my looks. I'm slim, sure, but I'm also too short, with a barely there waist, and rather, erm, limited assets.
When I was younger, I hated my lack of T&A. I wanted to look like a Victoria's Secret model. Tall and long with full breasts and a round ass.
Over time, I stopped caring about my undefined waist and my lack of T&A. But I didn't love the way I looked. I didn't stare and think damn, I'm hot shit.
Right now?
Right now, I'm the sexiest woman in the universe.
I have the same figure, but I look different. I feel different. Like a sweet angel waiting for a devil to corrupt her.
A vision.
A goddess.
Here, playing the good girl, enticing him to defile me—
Good thing I'm buying this thong. I'm already wet. I'm already shaking.
I brush my hair behind my ear. Apply an extra coat of lipstick. Something to drive him even more crazy.
He likes when it marks his skin. I can tell from the way he growls. From the way his eyes light up when he spots the stain.
He's out there. In the room. I can hear his footsteps. I can sense his presence. Somehow, I can feel him. It's a new ability.
A Shepard sense.
Or maybe it isn't new. Maybe it's something that's been dormant for a long time.
He is a part of me. Whatever happens after this year, he'll always be a part of me. Though, right now—
I'm past insane. Because, right now, I want more than the year. I want the forever he requested.
I want all of it.
Love. Marriage. Family.
Mr. and Mrs. Marlowe and all their adorable kids.
That's not in the cards. He can't promise to love me. But he can make my entire body buzz. And that's—
Fuck.
His footsteps move closer. Then it's his knuckles against the stall door.
"Yes." My words are impossibly high-pitched. I'm light. I'm floating.
"Open the door."
I unclick the lock.
He pushes it open then presses it closed. His eyes go wide as he looks me up and down. There's no more tension on his face. There's no uncertainty to his expression.
Only desire.
Pure, raw, primal need.
"Princess." He presses his palms into the mirrored door. "Or maybe I should call you angel?"
I shake my head. I like him calling me princess. It's ours.
"My bride."
My chest warms. My sex clenches.
"You wearing this under your wedding dress?"
"Maybe."
His fingers curl into the mirror. "Turn around."
I shift on my heels.
His voice gets gruffer. Firmer. "Put your hands on the floor."
I spread my legs a little wider. Then I reach for the floor, one inch at a time.
He lets out a low groan as my fingers graze the carpet. "You trying to drive me crazy, princess?"
"Isn't that the idea of lingerie?"
He responds by pushing off the door. He takes a step toward me. Then another.
His cock brushes my sex. His slacks and my panties are in the way, but I can still feel him. All the heat and hardness.
The pressure of the lace.
He leans over me just enough to wrap his hands around my arms. Slowly, he pulls me up. Holds my body against his.
My eyes go to the mirror. There's something about seeing him behind me. About seeing his hands on my skin.
It makes my sex clench.
Fuck, I need him so badly. It's hard to believe I've ever needed anything this badly.
He traces the waistband of the thong over my stomach and hip, then back to my other hip, then again, again, again.
Through the mirror, his eyes find mine. "Watch."
"Yes, sir." I don't want to push him today. I want to coax him into giving me everything.
He presses his lips to mine. Then he steps back. Releases me.
Slowly, he undoes the knot of his tie. He moves back to me. Pushes me against the wall. Raises my hands over my head.
Loops the silk fabric around my wrists and cinches it to one of the hooks.
I'm tied up in a dressing room.
Watching him—
I don't care what I'm watching. As long as he's doing it to me.
Shep looks me up and down slowly. Like he's savoring every single inch of my skin.
His lips find mine. He kisses me hard. With raw desire and soft affection.
It's not like our first few kisses. It's deeper. Purer. Better.
His need pours into me.
My need pours into him.
And something else. Something from deep inside my core. I'm offering it to him. Asking for it in return.
I don't have a word for it. Maybe it is love. Maybe I'm in love with him. Maybe I've never stopped loving him.