Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
The end.
The end of us, yes.
But more importantly, the end of them.
The god in the tower, his augment, and my Clara as well.
Which I have made peace with. If I can’t have her, neither can he.
“OK.” Jasina joins me at the window tapping her pencil on her notebook. “Do you want to hear the breakdown?”
“Is it any different than the last one you gave me?” I don’t even look at her. I just stare down at the people in their post-holy-moment celebrations.
“Well.” Jasina shrugs. “It’s more succinct.”
I actually smile. Just a little. Then side-eye her. “I’m sure it’s perfect.” I turn now, placing my hands on her hips, pushing forward, grinding against her.
She blushes. “What are you doing?”
“I feel like our… date got interrupted.”
“Yeah, well…” She wriggles a little, like she wants to back away. But I hold onto her hips, unwilling to let go. “Things kind of… went off track, true. But maybe now is not the time—”
“Jasina. The whole thing blows up in five fucking hours. Now is the only time we have.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I get that. But… there’s a lot to do, don’t you think? I mean, your father was very specific. Number one—”
“Are you really making a list?” I whisper these words right up against her ear, causing her to shiver.
“Number one is get out of here. Not have sex. Number two—”
“Jasina, come on.”
“Number two was destroy this tower.”
I lean in, kissing her neck. Her shoulder shrugs up, but not because she’s pushing me off. It’s because my kiss is tickling her. “That’s already in progress. The countdown is happening whether we like it or not. And there’s five hours. Plenty of time to have sex first, find the trains, and get the hell out of here.”
“And number three—after the tower explodes you have a mission!”
“Fuck the mission. I don’t care about what comes after. And neither should you. All I care about is how much I crave you right now. And how badly I want to be inside you.”
She doesn’t protest, but she doesn’t say anything, either. She wants to say no. But she’s not going to.
“I’m not Mitch,” I tell her, whispering these words in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. Or force you. Or anything like that. But Jasina, you’re mine now, don’t you see? You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
She looks up at me, sapphire-blue eyes wide. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re partners now. It’s you and me, Jasina. Forever. Don’t you get it?” I take my kisses higher. To the edge of her dainty jawline. Then I’ve got her lips between my teeth. I nibble on them, gently, but also with intention.
For a moment she doesn’t kiss me back. But when I persist, and start hiking up the many layers of silk that make up her elaborate skirts, she gives in just a little.
But it’s not until my hand finally touches the soft skin of her inner thighs that she really surrenders. Her head drops back when my fingers slide between her legs and she moans when I push one inside her.
I take my time here. I go slow because she wants it slow. Clara always wanted it slow too. Women want to be cherished and loved. And they want you to show them how much you cherish them and love them while you put things inside them. Cocks, fingers, tongues. Whatever.
That’s where Mitch got it wrong. You don’t need to force them. Ever. Not if you do it right. And success is so easy. All you have to do is make them feel cherished. And I do cherish her, in my own way. I want her to enjoy what I’m doing to her because after she’s done, and she’s post-climax—all flushed with those soft feelings that make her pliable—I want to do it my way.
I want to enjoy it the way I like it too. And they don’t care if you get a little rough. If you pull their hair, or slap their asses, or pinch their nipples.
This is what Clara taught me that last day we were together.
She doesn’t care if she’s been… primed correctly.
So that’s what I do.
I prime my Jasina. Because she is mine now.
But then, when she is moaning, and panting, and writhing, and her hair is plastered to her face with sweat, I take her by the shoulders, whip her around, push her against the window so hard, it rattles. And then I lift up all that silk, grab her hair in my fist, and enter her from behind.
We could die when the countdown reaches zero.
And maybe we will.
Then again, maybe we won’t.
But if I have to live in this lie of a world, she’s here for the duration.
She will be my comfort.
She will be my toy.
She will be my reward.
I come, and she comes with me, and the whole time I picture doing this to Clara.