Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Home away from home.
As soon as we step inside the hotel, I'm greeted with warm smiles and kind Italian words. I catch most of what they say even though I'm distracted, my attention continually drifting to Karissa.
She seems awestruck.
Eyes wide, curious and cautious, as they drink in our surroundings. We're led up to our suite on the top floor, and I'm trying to shove back my hostility so not to put off their hospitality, but I'm aggravated and exhausted and I'd much rather be left alone right now.
As politely as I can, I tell the workers to go the fuck away, shutting and locking the door behind them.
The suite is fairly big, given the modesty of the place: an open sitting room with couches and chairs, a fireplace and a television opposite a small kitchen, a large marble bathroom, and a bedroom with a king sized bed and access to a private outdoor terrace.
Karissa explores while I head straight to the bedroom and unpack my things in the small walk-in closet, feeling a bit better once I've found some order, some sense of control in my surroundings. I'm putting my last suit on a hanger when Karissa comes in.
She pauses near the doorway, leaning against the wall as she gazes into the closet, looking at me. I cut my eyes at her, meeting her stare.
"I didn't mean to upset you," she says.
I scoff, smoothing the dark material before hanging up the suit. "Yes, you did."
"But—"
"You meant every word of it," I say, stepping out of the closet toward her. "Never take back something you meant. I'd rather you offend me intentionally if it's something you believe than lie to my face just to placate me. I might not like what you say, but you're one of the few I respect to say it. Don't ruin that by taking back your words. Own them. Respect me that much."
"Okay."
That's it.
That's all she says about it.
Okay.
She's still looking at me.
My anger still hasn't waned.
I turn, prepared to walk away, when she lets out an exasperated sigh. "How long are you going to stay pissed?"
"Who says I'm pissed?"
"Me," she says. "I say you're pissed."
I turn back to her, surprised she's pushing this issue, that she's pressing these buttons she knows better than to press. "You sure you want to do this right now? You sure you want to have this conversation?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No second-guessing.
She stares at me, awaiting an explanation.
Fair enough. I'll give her what she wants.
"I'm going to stay pissed for as long as I am pissed," I tell her. "And I'm going to keep getting pissed as long as life keeps pissing me off."
"Maybe when you're done being pissed about it all, you'll finally let yourself start grieving what you lost."
"I have grieved."
"You're not supposed to lie to me."
Her accusatory tone sets me off. She thinks I'm a liar? That I lie to her? That's what she thinks of me? I've been teetering on a knife-edge all damn day and she just pushed me too much, too far, too fast.
Before she can react, I grab ahold of her, pinning her against the wall, my body flush against hers, my hand around her throat. She gasps loudly, startled, the sharp inhale sending shivers through me, gunning straight for my cock.
I'm hard. Instantly.
I don't squeeze, my fingers resting at her jugular, forcing her to look up at me. I can feel her pulse. Her heart beats wildly. I restrain her there, staring down at her, tip of her nose to the tip of my nose. Her breaths are unsteady, her hands shaking as they grasp my forearms.
I wonder if she's terrified or turned on...
She could get away if she wanted, weasel from my grasp without much effort, but she doesn't move. Her eyes shine brightly, wide and alert, regarding me with anticipation.
Staring at me with expectation.
It's not a rebuff, as she shoves against me, her chest hitting mine. No, it's an invitation.
No way will I decline.
I shove her roughly against the wall again, pulling her head up further, forcing her onto her tiptoes. I smash my lips to hers, kissing her hard. Her hands claw at my forearm, nails raking against the skin, but it's just for show. She fights my presence but keeps me there, gripping tightly so I can't break away, as she kisses me back.
The chills roll through me like waves, tingling from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, making my cock throb in between. I'm pulsating to the rhythm of her heart as it pounds against my fingertips.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Fuck.
I tear at her clothes with my free hand, teeth nipping at her skin, biting and licking along her jawline. Frustration mounts inside of me. It's probably twenty seconds. It feels like twenty minutes. It's a goddamn eternity not being inside of her.
I let go of her neck, yanking away from her clutch. She grabs ahold of my shirt to stop me from moving away, but I have no intention of leaving. My hands grasp her shorts, yanking them down along with her underwear. She kicks them off as I unbuckle my pants, not bothering to do any more.
It'll take too many seconds.
Grasping her hips, I pull her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and kisses me again. A gasp echoes from her lips when I thrust inside of her, filling her deeply, slamming her back against the wall.
"Fuck," I growl as she wraps her arms around my neck, gripping handfuls of hair and yanking as I do just that.
Fuck.
I fuck her.
I fuck her hard, fuck her with everything in me, fuck her until my skin is sweaty and my knees are weak, until my skull throbs and my body feels like it's going to detonate. I fuck her until my side feels like I've been shot all over again. She presses against the wall as I pound into her, again and again, the light switch digging into her back. The force moves it, the lights flickering, but she doesn't seem to notice and I don't give a shit.