Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“No,” she whispers, but I catch her hesitation. “No, you played me. Made me feel safe—”
“You were always safe,” I growl.
She ignores me. “Why do you have so many guns?”
“Work.”
Stark horror dances into her expression. “Oh God. What do you do?”
I swallow my trepidation. There’s nowhere to hide anymore. “I’m a hit man.”
Surprisingly, her features don’t register shock, but there is so much happening behind her eyes and goddammit, I would give anything to crawl inside and read her thoughts. “The other night…you weren’t coming back from the kitchen, were you?”
I shake my head slowly.
Her head tips back on a watery sniff. “You kill people for a living, you’ve tied me up in a storage unit full of pictures of me—my god, you’ve been stalking me—and you expect me to believe I’m safe right now?”
“Yes.”
She pulls on her restraint, slumping when it holds fast. “You’re a psychopath.”
The accusation hits me like a spray of bullets. I’ve always thought this was the case, but a psychopath doesn’t love like this. Doesn’t have regrets or guilt or attacks of conscience. But if I tell her any of that, there is no way in hell she’ll believe me. This storage unit has damned me. My lies have fucked me over. I do not have a chance with this woman any longer.
I’m a criminal to her.
A stalker.
A crazy person.
If I really love her, I have to put my money where my mouth is.
I…I have to release her.
If for no other reason than she’ll know my feelings are real. Because I don’t think I can go on living if she believes the last perfect, beautiful month of our lives was some sick, perverted fantasy I played out at her expense. That would haunt me forever. If I choose to go on living without her. The jury is out on that one.
I bring our foreheads together. “I’m going to let you go. I’ll untie you, let you out of this room and disappear. You’ll never have to see me again.” Her breath hitches, her eyes searching mine. I watch them closely, so closely, as I drag my fingertips up the inside of her thigh, pressing them to the silk material of her panties and massaging gently right over the top of her clit. “Please, just let me come inside you one last time.”
“No,” she breathes, shaking her head, yanking on the rope that secures her to the rafter.
It kills me, but I start to remove my touch…until she makes a breathy sound of protest, reluctant lust wafting into the gold of her eyes. Her thighs cinch around my hand before I can fully take it away, and hope lights up my entire system. Our uneven exhales mingle in the darkness. I should let her go now. I shouldn’t fuck her. Because I can see she’s confused by the fact that her body still craves mine, even though she surely hates me.
But I can’t. I can’t walk away when I have the chance to be joined with Jolie.
It’s an impossible feat.
My hands go to my zipper, pulling it down and springing my cock free. Of course I’m hard as a rock. Because as much as I love this woman, I can’t help but also love having her restrained and horny, her tits rising and falling with growing anticipation.
At my mercy, one last time.
I reach up beneath her dress and tug down her panties, wincing a little when they land on the filthy floor of the storage unit. She deserves so much better than this, but here we are. If this is the only way I can have her, so be it.
Looking into her conflicted but turned on eyes, I cup her tits.
Mold them in my palms, before dragging my fingertips slowly down her ribcage, squeezing her hips and that supple ass, smoothing my touch down and up her thighs, then delve a finger between the soft folds of her pussy, groaning when I find her soaked.
“Ah, honey.” I push my finger deep, pumping it in and out, memorizing the feel and texture of her. “Does being the object of my mania make you a little too hot? Don’t worry, you can enjoy getting fucked by your stalker as much as you want and I won’t tell a soul. Your secret is safe with me.”
Her eyes spark ominously, but I don’t give her a chance to respond.
I yank her thighs up around my hips and plow my cock deep into her tight channel, relishing the sound of her stunned moan. How it echoes around the small room where I’ve fantasized about fucking her so many times. With the rafter supporting most of her weight, she’s lighter than usual, so I take hold of that claimed-wife ass and ride her up and down my dick. Fast. Without mercy. I bounce her like a little fuck toy the way she likes it, listening to her try to refrain from whining in my ear and losing the battle. Calling my name. Wailing it.