Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I was lucky. So very fucking lucky to have Morgue with me. If I needed a reminder of that fact, all I had to do was spend time with the other women they’d pulled out of that place. All of them were scared of their shadows. When I looked into their eyes, I saw women who’d given up hope. They’d accept their fates, whatever they were, and wouldn’t lift a finger to defend themselves. They all needed protectors like Morgue, but I wasn’t giving him up. Not for the other women. Not for anyone.
I climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, leaning against the door. The shower walls were clear but fogged with condensation from the hot water. I’d watched Morgue shower every day, and I never got tired of looking at his naked body.
He was thickly muscled. Tall and powerful. Not for the first time, I wanted the right to trace all those muscles with my hands and lips. I never thought I’d feel this way about a man after my captivity, and I probably never would about anyone else. But Morgue? Yeah. I really wanted him to be mine. I wanted to be his. He never gave me any indication he was sexually attracted to me, and I think that hurt more than I was willing to admit.
“Are you watching me again?” Morgue didn’t pause as he washed his hair and beard. Ducking under the spray, he rinsed away the shampoo, scrubbing his hands over his head and face.
“Do you mind?”
“You know I don’t.”
I took a tentative step toward the shower before I could stop myself. Taking the collar of his T-shirt I wore in my fingers, I tucked my thumb into the material and brought it to my nose. I always stole his shirt after he took it off at the end of the day. It smelled like him, and I loved having the scent surrounding me. Not that it mattered much what I wore. By the time we woke up each morning, his scent was on anything I wore. It often made me wonder if my skin would smell like his if we both slept naked. Fanciful thinking, I knew, but the more time I spent with Morgue, the more I realized that, even if we’d met under different circumstances and I didn’t see him as anything but who he was and not my hero, I’d still want him with every fiber of my being.
He rarely smiled, was surly as a goat, and as antisocial as anyone I’d ever met. But he was loyal and honorable. He kept his word to me, no matter what he had to do. I was helpless to guard my heart from him, even if I tried.
“Would you mind if I joined you?” I have no idea where I found the courage to ask that question, but I wanted permission to be in there with him.
Morgue faced me, shaking his head and slinging water in all directions. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping water out of his eyes. He placed his other palm on the clear shower wall, giving me his front. There was no disguising his interest. His cock stood at attention in the nest of dark curls at his groin.
“You’re always welcome anywhere I am, Dorothy. I think you know that.” He’d started using more than one- and two-word sentences a couple weeks ago, a sure sign he was more at ease with me. His words flowed more effortlessly now, the dark timbre of his voice sending thrills through me when I never thought I’d feel this way again. Hell, had I ever been this aroused?
I held my ground, unyielding to the intensity of his stare. “I’m not afraid of you, you know.” I didn’t make a move toward the shower but didn’t take my gaze from Morgue. All that muscled, tattooed skin was mesmerizing and utterly captivating.
“If you were, I doubt I’d be in your bed every night, holding you while you slept.”
“I think, technically, it’s your bed.”
His response was instant and insistent. “It’s as much your bed as it is mine.” If he looked amused or anything other than deadly serious, I didn’t see it. “Either way, you sleep in my arms every fuckin’ night when no one else ever has, woman. You have me.”
I took that as the invitation it was, peeling off my shirt and panties, then climbing into the shower with him. The water hit me in a gentle spray, tickling my skin. Morgue kept his gaze on me the entire time. He studied me like I studied him. Hungrily.
“Nothing happens you don’t want to happen, Dorothy. You can stop at any time.”
“What makes you think I’d want to stop?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes, things that seem comfortable at the time don’t stay that way. I’m a big man. The last thing I want is to accidentally frighten you.”