Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“How’s your head?” he asks.
“Not too bad. I did try to drink water as well,” I tell him.
“Good.”
We both fall silent and when I turn to look at him, I find him already watching me.
“What is this?” I ask him.
“Us?” he questions.
I nod, and he huffs out a breath. I watch his chest rise and fall, his tattoos shifting as he lifts his hands.
“What’s that?” And before I can stop myself, I reach for his hand and pull it to me, and he lets me do it without resistance. “How…” I study the design for a minute before glancing back at him. “Why would you do that?”
“This hand has taken a lot of lives.” He doesn’t pull it away as he looks down at it. “But it also put that ring on your finger,” he says. I run my fingertip over the ink on the side of his hand, the part you spread around someone’s neck, and in clear fancy writing it says…
Mayve
“Is that so you remember my name when your hand is around my neck?” I tease.
Kenzo lets out a small chuckle. “It’s so you don’t forget that even when I’m hurting you, that I belong to you. I’m branded.” I look down at his hand again, and a small smile forms on my lips. “I’m not sure I can let you go again,” he mumbles. “You are mine.”
“Yours.” I smile, and that’s all it takes for him to reach for me and lift me onto his lap.
“Do you mean it? Because don’t say it if you don’t.”
“I do,” I reply, looking deep into his eyes.
“Good. I’ll have you moved in later today.” Before I can argue that it’s too soon for that, he yanks me down to him and kisses my lips. As he pulls me closer, I can feel all of him between my legs. Considering I don’t have any underwear on, whatever he’s wearing is all that separates us.
I push against his chest and shake my head. “We need to get to know each other,” I tell him.
His lip quirks at my words. “I already know you,” he says, tugging me back, kissing me again.
I lean back a second time. “Do you, though? I don’t know if you do. And what do I even know about you?” I ask, pressing my hands to his chest so he can’t pull me back to him a third time.
“Your favorite color is black. You were born on May second. You are shy with those who don’t deserve your energy, but those who do, you give yourself to them easily. You think your eye…” he reaches up and touches my brows, sliding his fingers down so my eyes shut, “is a disadvantage when it’s anything but. People stop to stare, sure, but there is a reason they do. You are fucking marvelous, and they wish they could know you. You’re not a big drinker. What was last night, your second time being drunk? You like it when I touch you here.” He grips my waist and squeezes, and I grind my hips as he does it. “Your social media makes me hard.”
“Now that you don’t delete it,” I interject with an eye roll.
“I wasn’t comfortable sharing what is mine.”
“Yours?” I question.
“Yes.” He lifts my ring finger and slides it into his mouth. I watch the action and lick my lips as he pulls it out.
“And what about you?” I ask.
“You ask me for anything, and it’s yours. You already know my fucked-up kinks and that I hate people…apart from you. You also know I will step into social situations, which I would normally never do, for you. What else do you want to know?” he asks.
I lift the hand with the finger he had in his mouth and lay it on his chest.
“What about in here?” I tap where his heart is beating strongly.
“That’s easy. You.”
If there were a picture in the dictionary along with the definition of a sweet talker, it would be his. He makes my butterflies sing. They are crazy and sweet as an orange, but they sing and dance for him. My finger traces a tattoo on his arm—a black snake wound around orange butterflies.
“What’s this mean?” I ask.
“It’s us,” he says. “Butterflies mean new beginnings, and the snake is strength. Snakes shed their skin regularly, and I want to do that for you.”
I slam my lips down on his and kiss the fuck out of him. And he lets me. After a minute, he takes me with him as he stands from the bed. My feet hit the floor, and he steps back. Pulling off his shorts, he drops them to the floor. Then he reaches for me and tugs my shirt off over my head.
“What are you doing?” I ask as his thumb touches my lips.