Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Each second that passes without proof that she’s here makes my blood pressure climb. Higher and higher it goes. What if the guard lied? I suppose I’ll have to pay him another visit. I'm tempted to call out to her, but we haven't spoken in a while, and I don't want to scare her away. I remind myself that when it comes to Bel, I’m back at square one. All the work I put in to earning her trust is nothing but dust in the wind now. If I’m going to get her to listen to me, I’ll need to approach this differently.
Impatience blooms in my belly as I stalk toward her favorite set of desks. I notice a bag hanging off the chair and a few romance books stacked on the table, but there’s no Bel in sight. Shit.
Where is she?
I spin on the balls of my feet and scan the area, raking my gaze over every person in the room, shifting behind the desk toward the stacks to get a better look and make sure she’s not hiding somewhere. My heart threatens to catapult out of my chest when I spot her standing next to the window.
The streaks of sunlight make her look like she’s wearing a halo. I swear to fucking god, I stop breathing for half a second. Piercing green eyes. Blond strands are held haphazardly on the top of her head in a messy bun, just as expected. My tongue darts out of my mouth, and I lick my lips like the true predator I am.
Relax. Don’t scare her.
I watch her curiously, missing this so much there aren’t even words to describe it. Sebastian was right. The little wallflower has grown into a wildflower. Gone are the oversized sweatshirts she adored before. She's wearing designer jeans and a tight white top that makes her tits look great, and my mouth waters at the image before me.
Fucking hell, why didn't I put her in better clothes when I had her?
I suck a ragged breath into my lungs. To be anxious or nervous is unlike me, but Bel is different. Always was. I’m so afraid I’m going to fuck this up again, that I’m going to have to force her to do what I want her to do, and we both know that’s not what I want. I need her submission, her sweet, fragile trust. I swallow the lump in my throat. Here goes nothing.
"Bel.” I whisper her name.
Her eyes shift from the book she’s holding right to me like she heard me even though we are several feet apart. She has yet to really see me, and I take a hesitant step forward.
“Bel.” I say her name a little louder this time. “It’s time we talked about things.”
That makes the light bulb go off in her head. I watch as her eyes fill with shock or maybe even fear. I can’t really be sure which it is when they mirror one another so closely. I choose to go with the second when her foot slides backward. Fuck me. I know what she’s about to do, and it’s so incredibly stupid.
“Don’t do it,” I snarl, the animalistic beast barely contained under the cold mask I wear. If she wants to tempt me, nothing will do that quite like the thrill of a chase.
Those pretty emerald eyes of hers flick around the library, looking for an exit, a way to escape me, but what she doesn’t understand is that she can never escape me.
Bel will never be free of me, no matter how much she cries, begs, or pleads.
I inch closer, and just like the gazelle sensing danger, she notices the movement, her gaze ping-ponging between me and the stacks.
Do it. Run, Flower. Run as fast as you can.
Every drop of blood in my body heads south, pumping furiously into my thickened cock. I’m grappling for control over the primal desire to chase her and fuck her into submission but remind myself that this is so much more than sex. I need to rein in my primal instincts, at least for right now, but seeing her again after all this time is harder than I anticipated.
I fucking crave her submission, the softness of her body as I bend her to my will, forcing her to take whatever it is I want to give her. Yes, I fucked up, and I’m man enough to admit that, but I’ve given her more than enough time and space. I can’t keep myself in check anymore. I can’t be without her. She's not getting away from me this time.
Like a spooked animal, she takes off, racing in the direction of the stacks.
Just as I anticipated. I take off after her, slipping through the line of chairs, shelves, and tables, heading right for her. She cuts through some bookshelves to the right, and I follow closely like a bloodhound. She’s backing herself into a corner.