Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Now.
It was always supposed to be now.
My mouth opens on a soundless moan when he pushes forward, filling me for the first time.
Maybe I'm a dreamer now, although I've never been one to partake in living in a fantasy world, but this is the epitome of perfection—the pull, the burn, the stretch, the ache that eases other aches. It's more than I ever imagined it could be.
It seems unreal just how perfect he is for me, and I dig my nails into his back, holding on in fear that I could lose what we have. But instead of calling me out on it, he leans in, pressing his lips to mine as he also holds me closer.
He whispers my name as he pulls his hips back, the drag of him inside of me igniting an even larger fire.
I whisper his name, knowing the weight of his body on mine is the only thing holding me down.
My body trembles, my knees feeling weak despite being on my back.
"Kaylee," he groans, repositioning again until he presses forward, striking at something deep inside that makes my vision swim with pleasure.
He lifts my leg, draping it over his arm, much the same way he did in the SUV, and it opens me for him, allowing him to press closer.
I swim in ecstasy with him, my body playing a song that only he knows the words to, and it's heaven.
A deeper ache comes alive, a throb of urgency that he seems to understand. Ellis feeds that ache, giving me exactly what I need.
"Ellis," I pant once again.
"Me too, baby."
We explode as if it was choreographed, as if we have been practicing this dance for years, and reaching the top of the mountain in tandem was always the goal.
My body shakes, and I can't tell which pulses are his and which are mine, but in the end, it doesn't even matter.
In the end, I'm in his arms, trying to catch my breath.
In the end, he whispers that I'm his anchor too.
Chapter 39
Heathen
I don't care how many times the guys turn around in their seats to stare at me. Kincaid could order me to stand on a podium in the middle of town and treat me like a circus act, and it couldn't wipe the smile from my face.
My girl is wearing my ring, and several little nip marks from my mouth proudly this morning.
I know she's safe here at the villa, and since she has no plans to leave anytime soon, there's no need for me to feel worried. The world isn't perfect by any means, but our world is as close as I think it can come right now, and I'll celebrate that until it changes.
Living in fear or letting myself get lost in the hatred I have for the man who hurt her last night only diminishes the time we have together.
Much like this meeting is doing. Being away from her is the only thing that makes my smile slip a little as Rooster stands from his computer and looks out over us.
"He's a ghost," Twisted mutters, and I know the man is internalizing a lot of this because he and Bandera were the ones on the outside, responsible for watching the house last night.
I don't blame him. It's impossible to cover an entire property with two men, especially with the limited line of sight Morgan's house allows.
Hell, if anyone is to blame, I'd point all of those fingers in my direction. I watched her walk up the stairs, so lost in her and in love that I didn't listen to my gut. Look where it got her.
I shake my head and try to give Rooster all of my focus.
"Morgan didn't get any pictures of him. She went on a date that was set online with a company that connects people without pictures," Rooster says.
"What?" Bandera asks. "That's ridiculous. How are people meeting people when they don't know what they look like?"
"Got me," Rooster says. "It's another online fad, so people don't get so wrapped up in what people look like. It's a way to minimize materialization or some shit."
"What did Morgan tell you about him?" I ask, wanting to move this along because I left Kaylee naked in our bed, and I'd like to get back to her as quickly as possible.
"I haven't spoken with her yet," Rooster says.
"How do you get information if you don't speak with the only person who has seen this guy's face?" Twisted asks, his tone full of irritation.
I know the guy is taking this personally, and I don't fucking blame him.
"I can find out a lot more online than I can when competing against someone's memory," he mutters. "Can we get back to this?"
Twisted crosses his arms over his chest and sits back deeper into his chair.
"She didn't meet this guy online," Rooster says. "She went on a date with another guy and met this guy when she was leaving that date. So we have literally nothing on him. There's nothing for me to follow."