Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
His eyes flick between mine, defiance lining every inch of me, I’m sure.
“Raven—”
“Stop,” I tell him. “I’m not doing this.”
“Why not?”
“Because ...” My eyes widen. “I don’t want to, okay?” I grow defensive and his hands jerk away from me. I swallow the bile fighting its way up. “Just because you decided to say what you did doesn’t mean I’m going to say it back. It doesn’t mean I’m going to try to ... love. I told you I’m not normal.”
“Neither am I,” he snaps.
“Then stop pretending we can be!” I shout. “Stop feeding into the thought of being—” I cut myself off and look away, but he forces my eyes back.
“What, happy?” He gets in my face. “No. I won’t stop, Raven. Everything around us is fucked up and influenced by one thing or another, one person or another. We don’t have anything for ourselves at this point, not completely anyway. But you? I want you, for me. Only fucking me. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“Well you should, because—”
“Cut the shit, Raven!” His hand hits against the window beside my head. “You feel like I do, but you’re fighting it. Why?”
“I said I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?” he shouts, creeping even closer. “Why, pick a fight when we have no reason for one? Why not let it happen? Would loving me be so bad?!”
“Yes!” I shout right back, pushing on his chest but he doesn’t budge. “Yes, it would be so bad. So fucking bad!”
“Why?!”
A humorless laugh leaves me. “Seriously?” I gape at him. “I was ready to fuck someone else to protect you. Someone who touched me without permission. I wasn’t talking out my fucking ass when I said love is weak, because if what I’m feeling is love, Maddoc, I don’t want it! I hate it!”
“Why?”
“Because! It’s like you’re in my fucking head, dictating moves I used to control, fighting against my every step.” I shake my head. “You’re like weight beneath my skin, pressure against my chest, a fog inside my damn mind I can’t get rid of!”
“Raven—”
“To love you would mean to let go of a part of me, the part that I worked damn hard to get – understanding and accepting I need no one to survive, knowing I can do this all on my own without a helping hand or dropping to my knees.”
His shoulders fall. “Baby...”
I swallow. “To need someone is weak, because what happens when they leave, and you fall flat on your face? I don’t want to be weak, Big Man, not even for someone strong enough to carry us both.”
The vein in his neck throbs against his skin, and his throat bobs with a deep swallow, but what has me holding my breath is the way the creases at the edge of his eyes smooth out.
His hand wraps around my neck and I welcome it, gripping his wrist to keep it there.
He moves in, running his nose along my jawline, pausing to whisper in my ear. “I make you weak?”
“Yes.”
He growls against me, his grip tightening. “That’s good, baby. Real good.”
I frown, and he pulls back, a smirk in place.
He rolls his hips against me, lifting my chin up so his lips can touch mine.
I fight the urge to lick his, but he has even less control and slides his tongue between the crease of my lips in a second, tasting me.
Another groan leaves him.
His hand glides up my side, pausing at the edge of my breast. “You said love makes you weak.” He nips at the corner of my mouth. “You said I make you weak.” He nips my jaw. “If love makes you weak, and I make you weak, then baby,” he breathes against my skin, pulling the lobe of my ear between his teeth. “What’s that mean?”
I pant, my body going slack against the door. “I...mmm,” I moan when he runs the tip of his nose up my throat. “Fuck off.”
He laughs against me, his grip tightening, his chuckles quickly turning into a moan.
His mouth flies to mine and while his kiss is hard and possessive, crazed for more, his hands on my neck and face are gentle, almost feather light. It’s like he’s afraid to grip me fully, knowing the small wounds on the back of my head aren’t fully healed.
He pulls back just as quick and lifts me.
With a husky chuckle, I jump up in his arms and he jogs for the door, running up the steps and inside.
Right when we make it through the threshold of the doorway, my back hits something and Maddoc stumbles slightly, catching himself and me before we tumble.
His eyes fly over my shoulder and his body turns to stone.
His hands release me, and I frown, slowly sliding down, but when I shift to look over my shoulder as well, my muscles lock just the same.