Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
There’s something about Ophelia Hart, some string between us that’s always been there in some form, different now that she’s a woman. I feel the tug of it, the draw to her.
I have never been interested in any woman beyond a night, a week, two at most. I don’t know if it’s that I feel protective of Ophelia or somehow connected to her given our shared past, but I just know with her, everything feels different.
I want her. And it’s not to take her away from Ethan. He doesn’t matter. No, this thing, it’s as though she feels like she’s mine. Like she’s for me.
I groan.
“O.” I force myself to draw back. “You’re drunk.”
She shakes her head, pulls me down when I make to get up. She touches the scar on my temple then caresses my cheek and smiles softly up at me.
“Silas?”
“Ophelia.”
“Stay with me.”
My gaze moves to her bare breasts before shifting back to those soft, pretty eyes. Sad eyes. It’s those sad eyes that keep me from walking out of the bedroom.
She leans up to kiss me once more, and I watch her eyelids flutter closed then open again as she burrows into my chest. I wrap my arms around her shivering body.
“I need you, Silas,” she says.
I need you.
It’s all it takes, and I find myself nodding and laying her down before I stand. My gaze hovers at her mouth, her little pink tongue darting out to lick those lips that taste so sweet. I undo two more buttons before pulling my shirt off over my head and taking in her full breasts with their hard nipples, the tiny gem sparkling at her belly button. Those white lace panties.
I strip off my pants but keep my briefs on and lower myself onto the bed, setting one knee between her legs and sliding my arms around her, cupping the back of her head to kiss her as her arms close over my shoulders. It’s when I taste the salt of tears that I draw back.
“O? What is it?”
She shakes her head.
With a groan, I pull back, but when I move to stand, she closes her hand around mine. “Please don’t go.”
“You’re drunk, O. This isn’t smart.”
“I need you. Please.”
Fuck. There it is again.
I kiss her mouth, her neck, the hollow between her collarbones, one hand weighing her breast, fingertips over the flat of her belly, sliding into her panties. I can’t stop because the look on her face, the moan as her teeth scrape my throat, I can’t get enough.
“We…” she starts but the words trail off into nothing.
I draw back to watch her as my fingers move over her sex. Her eyes darken and she sucks her lower lip between her teeth.
“Let the hair grow back in. I like you natural,” I say, rubbing.
“Silas.” She arches her back. Her eyelids have closed, but she puts her hand on my forearm. “We...” I brush my thumb over her clit. “Oh God.”
“Look at me,” I say, and she blinks, turns those deep burnt honey eyes to mine. “Say my name when you come. I want to hear you say my name.”
She nods, whimpers, her breathing becoming ragged. It takes just a few more turns of my thumb over her clit, my fingers inside her finding that spot that makes her tighten her thighs around me and push into my hand, and when she comes, my name is a gasp on her lips, a breath. It’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.
Her eyes grow sleepy once more, and she looks at me through her dark lashes. Her fingers come to my chest, dip lower to my abs. She’s cautious, almost inexperienced. I can tell in the way she touches me, and I like it.
“You should go to sleep,” I tell her, taking her small wrist in my hand but not stopping her as she traces the line of hair below my belly button.
With a groan, I move her hand away and get out of the bed. I need to take care of my erection. If I stay here, I will fuck her, and I can’t do that, not tonight.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m going to go have a shower. Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Wait—”
“We’re not doing this tonight, O,” I say, turning back.
She sits up, draws the blankets up to cover her breasts. “What did I do?” she asks, looking uncertain and maybe a little hurt.
I go to her, tilt her face up to mine and kiss the tip of her nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I would love nothing more than to bury myself inside you, believe me, but I need you sober the first time.”
“I am sober.”
I smile, shake my head. I shouldn’t have taken it as far as I did. I should have tucked her into bed and walked out of the room. I do that now, leaving the bedroom and intending on showering in the guest room. Once there, I shut the door, switch on the shower and step inside, the icy water sobering until I remember the look on her face when she came, the sound of my name on her lips.