Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Better than anyone else.”
“I’m afraid that might not be true. I’m afraid—” She doesn’t keep going. I tighten my grip in her hair, pulling her chin up.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her eyes meet mine. There’s an intensity in her expression, a shadow of her incredible focus. I could sink into that gaze, dive deep into the depths of her and never resurface again.
I want to do it too.
If anyone could make me lose myself, it’s Hellie.
“This thing between us. It scares me.” Her voice is small. But the way she looks at me drives a spike of need into my core.
My heart hammers. My throat swells. It’s the first time either of us has admitted that there’s something more going on here—something more than fucking, more than pleasure.
A connection.
Forged in this fucked situation.
But pure in a way that never could’ve happened otherwise.
“It doesn’t scare me.”
“No?” She almost laughs. “It should. We’re enemies, right? I should hate you? And my dad stole from you, so you should hate me.”
“I don’t. And you don’t hate me, either.”
“No. I don’t. Which is why this is so wrong.”
“Why does it have to be? You and I mesh, Hellie. Tell me why you’re so scared.”
“Because I have feelings for you, okay?” She blurts the words out like she’s forcing them past her lips, and as soon as they’re in the air, her eyes go wide with surprise, shocked at her own admission.
I stare at her, heart racing. Heat between us like burning silk. I release a soft groan as my chest swells with something—pride, joy, I can’t even tell, it doesn’t matter.
All I know is I want her, and she wants me too.
I kiss her. Fuck talking. Fuck explaining. I kiss her deep, slow, tasting her, drinking her in, and she returns that kiss, because she wants me. She feels something for me the same way I feel something for her. I hold her tight, hands on her hips now, and I can’t stop myself as I undress her, shoving her back onto her work table, my hand slipping between her thighs.
She’s so fucking wet. She’s panting my name as we fuck slowly, staring into each other’s eyes. She rides me, her lithe, gorgeous body graceful and perfect. Sweat drips down her skin, and I lick it up. I suck her nipples, tease her pussy. She makes these heavenly noises as she sucks my cock, going deep, her spit rolling down my shaft.
I admire her, that beauty, that poise. I fuck her deep, spank her until she screams, until she comes in a frenzy, and it still isn’t enough.
She has feelings for me.
I go down on her, lick her until she’s grinding her mound into my mouth. I fuck her again, foreheads pressed together, needing more, dripping with need. “Hellie,” I whisper as she comes a second time. “My beautiful Hellie.” And I come inside of her, deep inside of her in a flare, in an obsessive release of pure bliss.
I have to carry her back to my room. She’s nearly catatonic. “Hellie, Hellie,” I whisper, kissing her once she’s under the covers. I hold her in my arms. “Hellie, there you are.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” But she’s grinning. “Now you have the wrong idea.”
“And what idea is that?”
“You think we’re going to do this.” She touches my chest. Then touches her own.
“No, darling girl. I think we’re already doing it.”
“You’re wrong though. I’m your captive, remember? We can’t have a relationship while you own me.”
“Do you want me to free you?”
“We both know you can’t. We’re way beyond that.”
“You’re right.”
“Then don’t offer something you don’t want to give.”
“I won’t again.”
“Good.” She closes her eyes. “You want to hear something sick?”
“Yes. I do.”
“I like it here.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“But it’s actually worse than bad. It’s psychotic.”
I stroke my thumb across her cheek. “I like that you’re here.”
“Yeah, because you get to fuck me, and you seem to enjoy that.”
“Yes, I do, very much so.”
“It’s not just the sex, although I enjoy that too.” She grins at me, almost shy, but it fades. “Everything makes me want to stay. The studio, the food. I know I’m a prisoner, but I also feel free. I do nothing but think about painting all day long for the first time in my life, something I’ve always wanted to do. Even back in art school, there was always something else, some distraction. Here, it’s just… painting. And it’s amazing.”
“But you’re still my prisoner.”
“Yep. Still your prisoner.”
“How do we fix that?”
“I don’t know.”
We lapse into silence. I understand her hesitation, but it’s not like I can let her go—and she doesn’t want me to. Even if I did, Frost or Gallo would scoop her up. If I said she was free, it wouldn’t mean anything, because her freedom is effectively gone. This house is the only safe place in the world for her right now.