Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Maybe Bellamy is another example. He was a good man and a great boss. But that doesn't mean he can't also have been this other thing too. It doesn't mean that he didn't have skeletons in his closet. It doesn't mean his son is to blame for what happened to him. He didn't deserve it. I'll never believe that. But that doesn't mean it wasn't his addiction that started the ball rolling down the hill. It doesn't make Brantley the bad guy.
If Isla loves him, it's because he's someone worth loving.
"I wouldn't have approved," I admit. "But I think maybe I was wrong." I bite my lip, meeting his gaze. "I was wrong today, too, you know."
He watches me intently, not saying anything.
"Even before I thought I might…die," I say, hating the way he flinches when I say the word. "Even before then, I regretted how we left things this morning, Cormac. I was angry, but I didn't mean what I said about never forgiving you."
"I thought I lost you."
"I know," I whisper, feeling two inches tall.
"No. I mean, even before those motherfuckers showed up, I thought I lost you." He expels a breath, sinking to his knees in front of me. "I told you that I could live with you hating me, but it was a fucking lie, Mischief. I don't just need you safe. I need you, period."
"I need you too," I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I was so damn scared I wouldn't get to say I'm sorry for being a brat." My bottom lip quivers, his face blurring. "I thought the last thing you'd ever hear from me was me threatening to never forgive you."
"Don't cry, Mischief. You know it breaks my heart," he croons, cupping my face between his palms. "You're too damn perfect for tears."
"I love you. That's what I wanted you to hear last, Cormac," I say, crawling toward him and then climbing off the bed into his arms.
He pulls me down onto his lap, holding me tightly. I press my lips to his jaw, his cheek, and the corner of his mouth, punctuating each kiss with the same three words. "I love you. Even when I was angry, I loved you. I'll never stop, Cormac. Not ever."
"Bella," he rumbles, his voice shaking with raw emotion. There's a warning in there, a quiet plea. But I don't heed it.
I don't think he wants me to, anyway. This man loves me best when I'm defying him. It's what I was built to do.
"I love you," I say again. "No matter how bossy you get or how many times you threaten to tie me to the bed to get your way, I'm going to keep loving you."
He growls my name this time, his hands tightening on me as he draws me closer. My shirt slides up my body, dragged higher as his composure slips. I feel his palm against my bare skin and marvel in his warmth, in his touch. In how he can be so discomposed and so controlled at the same time.
"I love–"
He cuts me off with his mouth on mine, stealing my confession. He kisses it from my lips, and then kisses the breath from my lungs. He doesn't let up until dots swim in my field of vision and I'm swaying in his arms, caught between the desperate need to kiss him forever and the burning need to breathe.
"It's my turn now, little girl," he says, peeling my shirt off my body as he rises to his feet. He flings it to the floor, tumbling me backwards onto the bed. His hard body covers mine, pinning me beneath him.
I wrap myself around him, sighing his name in bliss.
"You're my soul," he growls, kissing all over my neck. "I know love because of you. I feel joy because you're mine. Every damn beat of my heart is for you, Bella."
"Cormac," I breathe, dragging his shirt up his body. He pulls away long enough to rip it off over his head and then he's back, his bare skin against mine.
We work together, our hands sliding against one another's as we attack his pants, trying to get them undone. As soon as he frees his cock, it's in my hands.
"Fuck," he groans, his head kicked back. Hot possession pours like water from his gunmetal gray eyes, drenching me.
"I need you."
"You have me. You have every piece of me, baby." He tips his head forward, his expression so damn serious. "You'll always have every piece of me."
"I need you in me," I clarify.
"Have I had my snack yet, Mischief? No. So settle your little ass down and stop rushing me," he growls, prowling down my body.
I don't bother telling him not to rip my leggings. He's just going to do it anyway.
Right on cue, he tears the crotch out of them.