Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Fortunately, the curtains were all closed, not that it would have made a difference. But if they were open, she would have seen the bare brick of the building next to this one not less than a foot away. Far from the sweeping views of Central Park she was used to from her own large bay bedroom windows.
“This is where you live?” she asked, walking around, looking at my Ikea furniture and bare tabletops.
“Yes, when I am in the city. This is where I call home. I’m not here very much, but it’s good enough.”
“Okay…”
I could see the wheels spinning in her head, and for some reason I refused to put my finger on, I wanted her to feel at home here, too. I wanted her to like it.
“I like it. It’s cozy,” she said, sitting on the very edge of the sofa, her ankles crossed demurely under her as if she were preparing to be served afternoon tea during a friendly visit, instead of sitting before me in a blood, splattered mock wedding gown.
She really was a lady. A sweet, innocent girl that had been far too sheltered for far too long.
“You want to tell me what happened” I asked as I tossed my tuxedo jacket over a chair and pulled on my bowtie.
She played with the tulle fabric folds in her lap. “Not much to tell. I said something that made him angry. So he slapped me.”
I inhaled slowly through my nose as the rage rose again in my blood.
Maybe I should have killed the bastard.
Unbuttoning my cuffs before pulling the tail of my shirt out of my pants, I asked, “What’d you say that set him off so badly?”
She looked up at me through a shock of tangled curls, her neat chignon from earlier hanging lopsided and adorably ruined.
When she told me what she’d said, I threw my head back and laughed. “That’s my girl.”
Her smile faded. “Yes, but that’s the problem, Reid. I’m not your girl. I made a promise to my family.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“That is my life,” she corrected. “It’s an ugly reality of my station. I don’t get the luxury of making my own choices.”
I watched a single tear slip down her reddened and slightly swollen cheek, and it broke something deep inside of me.
“Fuck that. Choose something different. Your father didn’t arrange Luc’s marriage. He sure as shit didn’t arrange Olivia’s. They made a choice. You can make your own.”
“No, I can’t. Luc and Olivia aren’t useless like I am. They have skills they can use to survive in the real world. I have nothing. No life skills, nothing I can use as a trade.”
“Your music,” I insisted, and she laughed.
“Do you know how much a professional cellist makes? I wouldn’t even be able to afford a cute apartment like this one. I will have nothing, and I will be cut off from everyone I know.”
“So?”
“So!” She stood up, and her hand went to her shoulder as she rubbed the little spot where her shoulder met her neck. The same spot where her cello rested when she played.
The exact spot that made her body light up when I kissed her there.
“You want to hear me say it? Fine. I’m not brave enough to make that choice. I’m not brave enough to leave my family and all the money and all the safety of privilege behind.”
I marched across the room and pulled her into my arms. “Have it your way, princess. You don’t like choices, then I won’t give you one.”
I then kissed her with everything I had, and she kissed me back just as hungrily.
Sweeping her off her feet, I carried her into my bedroom and laid her on the only piece of furniture I’d spent time and money picking out.
My bed.
Charlotte was a lot of firsts for me.
The first woman I ever caught feelings for, the first woman to talk back to me, and it made my dick throb instead of turning me off.
She was the first woman I had ever spanked, and the first woman I had ever craved.
She was also the first woman I had brought back to my apartment and laid across my bed.
My bed was private.
It was a level of intimacy I had never wanted before having her here.
Having my princess in my bed felt right.
“Reid? What are you doing?” she asked as I reached underneath her for the zipper to her dress and peeled it off of her body, wanting to burn it when I saw the red lines on her ribs from the corset-style top.
“I’m going to show you how a real man treats his woman,” I answered before I placed kisses on the tops of her breasts.
Her hands slid into my hair, holding on while I worked my way down her body, stopping first at her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples until they were tight little peaks. And when her breathing became faster, I kissed each of the red lines left by the dress over her ribs.