Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re stalling.”
She releases a long breath, whether in frustration or resignation, I’m not sure. But she remains silent for a while as the sound of the engine fills the car.
“I just didn’t feel like having sex. Happy now?”
“My happiness has nothing to do with this. Why didn’t you feel like having sex?”
“That’s another question.”
“Never said there was a limit to the number of questions I’d ask.”
“And let me guess, I have to answer or you’ll threaten me with something worse, and if I keep fighting, the threat will escalate until you take it too far.”
I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips. “I knew you were a fast learner.”
She stares at me for a beat, two, three and doesn’t break eye contact.
Ah. I see.
That’s what attracted me to her the first time. The way she held my gaze when many find it impossible to stare at me for long—my brother and mother included.
Whether they’re uncomfortable or intimidated by me, I don’t know.
Jeremy once said I have a look that makes people uncomfortable in their own skin, so it’s a given that they’d choose to stay away.
Not Glyndon.
Not once has she looked away from my eyes. As if she needs to see me at all times.
I don’t even need to see me at all times.
My being is a condensation of atoms and molecules, a homogenous, perfect combination of my parents’ genes that formed a human being who’s unable to relate to humanity.
So the fact that she’s interested in seeing this entity—even out of fear—is another rare occurrence.
The accumulation of all these arbitrary, divergent traits in one person should be frowned upon.
With another sigh, definitely resigned this time, she lets her quiet voice fill the car, “I haven’t found anyone I want to have sex with.”
“Why not? Surely you’ve had some attention.”
“I just haven’t felt like it. Do you have any other questions, Your Majesty?”
“Not for now, no. I’ll let you know when I do.”
She narrows her eyes. “Really? You won’t say anything about the topic?”
“Like how I’ll eventually fuck you? I’m happy to talk about it, but I don’t think you’re ready for that conversation.”
“I’ll never let you.”
“Never say never, baby.”
“I liked it better when you were demanding answers.”
I reach for her thigh. “Want me to ask more questions when I’m on top of you this time?”
“No! I’m just saying.” She absentmindedly tucks a strand behind her ear. A blonde one, because of fucking course, this bundle of weird composition has blonde strands in her honey-colored hair.
She peeks at me from beneath her lashes. “Can we go back? I have class early tomorrow.”
“Not yet. You haven’t seen what we’re here for.”
Her pupils dilate the slightest bit, but she remains composed.
Hmm.
It must be her upbringing. Someone taught her not to back down, even when scared. To keep her spine straight and her gaze ahead.
To be the definition of her last name.
“I thought we were going for a ride. Isn’t that already done?”
“A ride needs a purpose.” I step out of the car.
She doesn’t.
So I go to her side and fling the door open.
Glyndon—innocent, sweet, and lush like her perfume—thinks she can get away by trying to glue herself to the seat.
“Come on, baby.”
She shakes her head. “What if you’re luring me to my grave? Maybe you weren’t kidding and this is exactly where you bury the bodies. Or worse, maybe a few of your underlings are waiting in the woods to gang rape me.”
“If I wanted to bury you, I would’ve killed you about an hour ago before I got beaten up for your currently absent trust. And there won’t be anyone touching you before I cover my cock with your blood.”
She purses her lips. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”
“Not reassuring, no. Mere statement of facts.”
“You’re so cutthroat, it’s disgusting.”
“And you’re so repetitive, it’s starting to piss me off.” I tilt my head. “Come out.”
When she hesitates, I fling her seatbelt off and grab her wrist. She tries to fight, her body going stiff, probably letting panic take control.
I drag her behind the car with ease. She’s small, I could crush her with one single hand—without full force.
Her skin appears pale blue in the darkness, like fresh corpses. If she somehow starts bleeding and the red is added to the mix, her skin will look ethereal under the moon.
The fact that I’m choosing not to act on those fantasies with this girl is a marvelous manifestation of my impulse control.
Repress, motherfucker.
“I can walk on my own.” Her voice shakes as she tries to release herself and fails miserably. Countless times.
She’s infuriating enough to keep on trying. I’ll give her that.
“You didn’t when I gave you the chance earlier, so the ball is in my court now.”
“Stop it, Killian.”
I pause at the sound of my name in her tiny little voice that’s no different from a lullaby. I don’t even like people’s voices most of the time. Some are high-pitched, others are low, and most are fucking annoying.