Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Instead of taking her hard and fast the way I wanted to earlier, I cover her mouth with mine, savoring her shivers as electricity flows between us. I claim her again with my tongue slowly stroking hers and my touch changes, becoming more demanding as hunger starts consuming my being.
But she goes with it, letting me back her against the wall, lifting a leg and draping it over my hip so I can enter her all at once. She arches against me as I fill her, her mouth falling open, moving with me. “Oh, yes,” she whispers, closing her eyes, letting herself sink deep into the pleasure while I sink deep into her. So deep, joining us, connecting us.
“Fuck…” I groan, taking her hands and linking our fingers before holding them over her head. My forehead rests against hers, our breath mingling. She’s so tight, gripping me like a vice, trying to milk me dry. “Fuck, you feel so good…”
“So… do you…” she moans, straining upward for a kiss I deliver gladly. My teeth graze her lip, and she shivers, moaning into my mouth when our tongues mingle. This is what I need, what we both need. To lose ourselves in each other. There’s nothing but us now, no outside world, no questions. Only the power of being inside her, moving slowly, feeling every inch of her slick, hot walls against me. Wrapped around me, pulling me deeper, promising escape.
I don’t know how long I can take it slow like this. She’s starting to get tighter, her breath sharper, when she breaks the kiss to moan against my lips. “Yes, fuck me,” she begs. I let go of her hands, and she wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face against my shoulder. That’s all I need to hear to unleash hard, sharp thrusts that make her slide up and down the wet tile. Tighter, tighter, her high-pitched cries lost against my skin, pushing me to give her more. Everything I have.
My body is taking over, taking what it needs, and I give her all of me before she gasps and arches against me again, practically squeezing my dick off before her muscles start to flutter and her juices coat my balls. “Oh, god,” she moans, and the sound plus the feeling is too much. I can’t fight it anymore. The tingle at the base of my spine grows, and my balls lift before I explode. I give her all of me, every drop of my cum filling her cunt in one blissful spurt after another.
That blissful wave carries me through our shower and drying off together, leaving me floating in a haze. I’m calmer now, peaceful, able to treat her with the tenderness she deserves.
The feeling lingers by the time we lie in bed together, with her head on my bare chest and my arms around her, keeping her close. I always sleep the best when we’re like this, when I have her next to me.
Not tonight, though. At least not right away. All I can do is stare at the ceiling and think back on that text and wonder who sent it. What the hell it meant.
What she’s hiding from me.
11
LENI
“Is it okay if I go? Do you mind being home alone?”
Shit. I never did respond when Colt told me a couple of guys from his psychology class wanted to get together over pizza and beer to work on a project tonight. It was like my mind went blank as soon as he mentioned he would be out. It went straight to where it’s been for the past few days: that alley, with that man I was sure was Nix.
I’m not so sure anymore, but that’s only because I’ve had plenty of time to question myself and remember Nix is dead and gone. It’s probably not that unusual for somebody to have a crazy thought like I did when they were fresh off being violated the way I was. I needed something to comfort me, some concept to make me feel better, and the idea it was Nix out there was the closest thing to comfort I could think of. The idea that he’s still alive, that Colt isn’t wrong or deluded. And maybe he could finally be happy—really happy—because he’d feel whole again, like there isn’t a part of him missing anymore.
Or I could just be crazy. That’s totally possible. Colt is right; I do need to see a therapist. Because between the messages that keep coming through my phone and the DMs I’m getting across social media from random anonymous accounts, I don’t know if I can take much more.
You’re going to die, bitch.
Count your days. The clock is ticking.
They’re going to bury you next to your mother.
The worst part is, I can block the numbers and accounts all I want, but that doesn’t stop them. They just create new accounts, new numbers to message me from. It’s enough to make me want to disappear. To just fade out completely. There are times when it feels like that’s the only solution.