Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I opened my eyes to look at him, and his beautiful face looked even more breathtaking as he found his own pleasure. I had done that. I’d made him feel like that. It was as heartbreaking as it was powerful.
When his eyes opened, they were locked on me. He didn’t pull out of me, and I was wanton enough that I held on to him. Needing to feel this connection.
“Being inside you is fucking incredible. You make me want to keep you locked up and filled with my cum. I have no control when I’m buried inside you.”
I felt my face warm, and I dropped my gaze. The guilt was sinking in. I’d known it would, but I had been willing to face the aftermath for the moment. I couldn’t just point my finger at Blaise now. Not when I’d given myself to him, demanding that he give me pleasure. There were no lies between us.
I pulled back, needing to get away now. To face what I’d done. Accept it and find a way to live with myself.
He tightened his hold on me. “Oh, hell no,” he said. “You aren’t doing this.”
I closed my eyes to keep from looking at him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I lost control.”
“Fuck that, Madeline. Look at me,” he ordered.
I shook my head.
“Madeline, please look at me,” he pleaded.
“I can’t,” I replied honestly.
“Why not?”
“Because you make me forget. I’m a bad person. I … I did this with you and …” I stopped trying to explain.
He wouldn’t understand. My father and brother had deserved more from me.
Blaise pulled from me then and backed away. The coldness spread through my body immediately. I fought the need to shiver. This was what I had asked for.
When I felt him touch my foot, my eyes opened, and I watched silently as Blaise slid my panties back up my legs. When he reached my thighs, he picked me up and stood me on the ground.
“I can do it,” I told him, fighting the desire to have him touch me.
“I know you can. But I don’t care,” he replied as he ignored my hands and pulled the satin material up and over my bottom.
When he turned and picked up my shorts, my throat tightened with emotion. Too many things were wrestling inside me, and I didn’t know how to compartmentalize them all.
Unable to make a decision on what I should be doing instead of what I was doing, I let him put my shorts on me too. When he was done, I stepped away from him.
“I need to feed you. You’re too thin,” he said as he walked around me and toward the fridge.
“I think it’s best if you leave,” I told him. Although that was a little too late.
“No,” he replied.
“What we did … we shouldn’t have. It doesn’t change anything. I can’t do this with you. My dad—”
Blaise turned, and the desperation in his eyes stopped me from saying more. “Don’t. I know what you saw. I know what you think of me, and I understand that. But I can’t just fucking walk away from you.” He stopped and sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. His eyes looked at me with so much sorrow that everything inside of me ached. “Let me feed you. Please.”
I said nothing as I stared at him. How had this man—the one determined to take care of me with such pain in his eyes that it tore at my soul—killed my family?
“What sounds good to you?” he asked me.
Something he couldn’t give me—waking up and realizing this had all been a nightmare. Finding out that the man I loved hadn’t killed my family. That I wasn’t a dark and twisted person because I had just fucked him on the counter.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
He turned back to the fridge. He didn’t reach for anything as he looked inside at the contents. We didn’t speak. The silence continued, and neither of us moved.
Why did he look so defeated? Even his posture wasn’t the same commanding presence that was part of who he was.
“Blaise?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“Do you know how to cook?” I asked him instead of asking the important things. The things that I knew I didn’t want answers to.
He glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Nope.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, and I felt mine do the same. I had no right to smile. Especially at him.
“I’ll find myself something to eat,” I told him.
The almost smile on his lips became a scowl. “No,” he replied. “I need to do it.”
“I am perfectly capable of making myself a meal,” I said.
He swung his eyes over my shoulder toward the door. “Huck fed you. You needed to eat, and he was the one to make sure you did. I fucking hate that. I am the one who makes sure you eat.”