Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
I sink my teeth into his neck to bury my groans, his fingers at my hips as he takes control, using my body as his own fuck toy.
Sweat leaves a trail down my spine as the pressure of his thrusts burns through my clit, my orgasm ripping through my body in desperate waves.
He catches my moans with his lips, sweat-slicked over my cheek. He looks up, and my heart flatlines when I’m met with velvet green instead of torment. The color reminds me of earth. The kind he most likely dug his way through when he crawled his way out of hell.
The unexpected shock of uncovering even a shadow of the man that resides beneath the darkness leaves my heart in pieces. It’s magnetic, and at this very moment, I’m not only obsessed with him.
I’m in love with him.
A sob chokes me on its way up my throat, but he catches it by kissing me again. His hand cups my face to hold me in place as he empties himself inside of me.
I’m screwed. I’m so damn screwed.
Cleaning the edge of my lip, he chuckles. “Put this on.” Removing his hoodie, he slips it over my head, leaving my hair tucked inside.
“I have a dress.” I raise a brow at him.
“Had.” He lifts the piece of linen with his finger, and with his head turned to the side, I get a clear view of the regal cut of his features. “Fuck. This the one I bought you back in summer several years ago?”
When I don’t answer, his eyes are back on me, and the seriousness of his question dissolves into a smirk when he notices me staring. “Looking at me like that will get you fucked again, and I’m pretty sure our friends are already pissed that we’re late.”
With my shoes clutched in my hand, I close the door behind with my back, trying to catch my breath. Priest’s hoodie falls above my knees, an aromatic reminder of the feelings I’d squashed moments ago. I can’t have them. We weren’t married to be husband and wife, we were married to be partners. Both sides of a scale needing the other to balance it.
My phone lights in my hand as I drop my shoes near his dresser.
Mom: I’m sorry. Are you okay?
I reread her words. This is the life I’ve known—one that I once prayed for. I don’t think I could ever be angry enough at my mother to not talk to her. She’s made mistakes, but they were only because she tried everything she possibly could.
Yes. I’m sorry too.
You won’t have to see him anymore, or anyone. I should have listened to your father. I’m sorry I’ve made this so hard on you. It’s why I thought allowing you to be with the Kings would make you realize how important you are.
I pause, lowering onto the edge of the tub.
I’ve always felt important when I was with you and Dads, and you don’t have to apologize for allowing me to live the side of my life that I belong in. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you—tell Dad and Father I love them too.
After her quick response, my phone blares in my hand. Nate’s wide grin fills my screen. Easter—I can’t remember what year. He’d taken a selfie on my phone after I’d been given a bunny teddy from someone. He managed to snap my disgust while hanging it by the ears.
“Yes?”
His face fills the screen when I accept his FaceTime, finally pulling the long strands of my hair out from my hoodie. I regret it when his head tilts to the side and his eyes fly around my face.
I know a lecture is coming, or a question. River saves my ass when her doll face fills the screen, her smile as wide as her father’s was in his contact photo.
“Trouble!”
I bite back my laugh. “Trouble!”
Nate breathes out a heavy sigh at the use of the nicknames that he gave us. Trouble Twins. It stuck. We only use it when he’s listening because it reminds him to count his blessings that we aren’t sisters instead.
“You’re both going to put me in an early grave, I hope you know that.”
River ruffles his hair. “Aw, Daddy. You’ll live.”
“That will never happen again.” Whacking his daughter out of the way gently, I don’t recognize the switch-up of tone until his words die off. I know he means it, but he can’t always be there to protect me.
“It will,” I whisper, relaxing against the headboard of Priest’s bed. My head rests against the cement, attempting to calm myself by memorizing the elaborate craftsmanship carved into the ceiling. “I have to get used to it if I want this life; if I’m following this life, then I have to share the same gratitude for that side too. I hate that it includes the witchy woo-woo shit I don’t believe in.”