Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
For him. For myself. For all the things he isn’t telling me.
It’s the truth.
Simon Blackwood makes me happy. He makes me warm. He makes me want to fight for him.
His face is pulsing with something and before I can make sense of it all, he slams his mouth over mine and kisses off all my words.
It’s a relief, this kiss. His tongue. His flavor. His smell. The swallows and the sucks of his mouth. I don’t know what his intention is but I’m not letting him go. I wind my arms around him and hook my legs at the small of his back.
I’m not letting him refuse me any longer. I can’t do it. I want him to give in.
Then suddenly, his mouth isn’t on me and I’m moaning with frustration. “Simon…”
“Listen to me, Willow.” He grabs my face and demands my attention. “Listen to me very carefully, it will be just once. Just one time. Just tonight. And it will be because you want it. You. You want me to do this.”
I wanna say something more but he doesn’t let me. “And, Willow, you won’t fight me on this. Because I swear to fucking God I’m this close to losing it and you don’t want to see me lose it. So, you won’t make this difficult. Do I have your word?”
My heart’s racing. It’s racing, racing, racing. It’s flying. My eyes are wide, and I can’t catch my breath. Did he really say what I think he said?
“Did you…” I lick my lips and blurt out my thoughts, “Did you really say what I think you said?”
He shakes his head once as if exasperated, and mutters to himself, “I’m already regretting this.” To me, “Willow, do I have your word or not? Just this once. Then no more poker or whatever fucked up plan you come up with.”
I’m so relieved and so fucking happy that I don’t have it in me to even take offense at his tone.
I nod. “You have my word.”
Not.
His eyes flash with something. All his desire. Everything unchained and saturated and dark. It makes my pulse skitter and pores sweat. It’s like the air suddenly turned all dirty and humid. Heavy and swollen like I am. Filled to the brim with drops of lust.
Then he moves.
We’ve been standing in the middle of the room all this time and when he comes unglued from his spot, the floorboards creak, and the thunder crackles. He only has to take a couple of steps before he reaches my bed and tries to lower me onto it.
I don’t let him. “We can’t. The bed, it creaks.”
I can literally see him shaking. His teeth clenched so hard that I know he must be hurting. “Tell me this is a joke.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No joke.”
He releases a short laugh. Though it lacks humor. “Where do you propose we do this?”
I swirl my finger in his damp hair. “Against the wall.”
His frown is the biggest one yet. “You want me to take your virginity against the wall.”
“Yes.” I point to the wall I want. “That one. It’s by the door so it isn’t in the direct line of sight from the little window on my door.”
Again a burst of a laugh, angry, incredulous. “You’ve thought about everything, haven’t you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“But you forgot something.”
“Wh-what?”
“You forgot how big I am,” he says with gritted teeth. “I’m pretty fucking big and you’re tiny, aren’t you, Willow? So fucking tiny and snug that you were worried someone might hurt you. Do you know what happens when a man fucks you standing up? Do you know what will happen if I do?”
Swallowing, I shake my head, twisting in his lap. All this big and tiny talk is messing with my lust, dialing it up several notches.
“I’ll have to jam my way in. I’ll have to fucking shove my cock inside your cunt, and every time I pull out, the gravity will pull you down. Do you know where you’ll feel me, Willow?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, all big and brooding and stationary. “In your fucking stomach. You’ll feel me in your soft stomach. I’ll be so deep inside of you that you won’t ever get me out. Do you want that, Willow? Do you want to feel that? Because even I can’t save you from that hurt.”
I should be nervous, I know. He’s not exactly painting a very pretty picture. I don’t want to feel anything in my stomach.
But then again, if it’s him, I don’t mind.
Except…
“Have you done this before?” I ask, disgruntled.
Something about that makes his lips twitch. “Not with a virgin, no.”
The way he says the V word, like it’s a curse, makes me want to smack him in the head. What does he think virgins are? A different species, from another planet? Born and bred in captivity?