What I Should’ve Said Read Online Max Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
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“Bennett,” I say, trying my own hand at stern.

He ignores me and pulls a match out of the box, his eyes solely focused on the paintings, and his intent is unmistakable. The concern in my chest blooms into fear.

I jump into action then, running over to him and swatting the box of matches out of his hands. They hit the floor with a slap just as Bennett’s gaze finally meets mine. His blue eyes are sad and red-rimmed, and dark circles mar the skin beneath them. It breaks my heart into a million tiny pieces.

“Why, Norah?” His voice is harsh as he grabs my arms, but his touch is tender. “Why?” he repeats.

His question has nothing to do with the paintings. All I can do is look up at him, locking his devastation-ridden gaze with mine.

“I miss her too, Ben,” I whisper. “I miss her too.” And I miss you. So, so much.

His breathing is ragged, and emotion shines within his eyes. And when one lone tear drips down his cheek, I reach up to wipe it off with my thumb.

He leans into my touch, his strong jaw nuzzling into my small hand.

“I don’t deserve you. I never did.” His words are so quiet, my frantic, overactive mind questions if they even exist.

He starts to pull away, starts to put distance between us, and real words or not, I can’t handle it.

The last thing I want right now is space from this man. In a short time, he’s become everything to me. And all I want more than anything on this earth is to be there for him. To be here with him.

I push my body against his, wrapping my arms around his neck and lifting myself up until I can wrap my legs around his waist. He is stone, still as a statue, but his chest moves up and down against mine in heaving waves.

I touch my forehead to his, trying to bring his eyes to mine again, but they stay fixated on my shirt.

“Bennett,” I say, urging him to look at me. My bottom lip quivers with the emotion that’s now clogging my throat. “Bennett.”

His blue eyes fight to avoid mine, but they lose the battle. Tear-stained blue to tear-stained brown, we stare at one another.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice one decibel over silent. I love you.

He crashes his lips into mine, his movements erratic and unsteady as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth. His fingers slide into my hair, and I tighten my grip around his shoulders and waist as I kiss him right back.

We’re a messy, desperate mix of mouths and breaths, and when the taste of salt reaches my tongue, I don’t know if it’s from my tears or his.

His hands move down my back until he grips my ass with his big hands. “Norah.” My name is a grave rasp on his tongue. “My Norah. I need you so fucking bad.”

“Bennett, I—” A sob strangles my voice, vibrating my chest against his, as he slams his mouth down on mine again.

I don’t care that he still has alcohol in his system. I don’t care if this is a bad idea. I don’t even care what happens after this moment. All I know is that I need him just as bad. I kiss him back with everything I have.

I don’t even realize he’s moved us until my back is hitting the sofa in the corner of his studio.

I respond by reaching my hands out to rip his T-shirt off his body. He follows suit by removing my sleep shorts and panties and freeing his cock from his jeans.

He pushes himself inside me on a grunt, and my eyes fall closed when he fills me completely.

My breathing is ragged and tears stream down my cheeks and my hands claw at the bare skin of his back, silently begging him for more.

Our mouths taste and lick and breathe each other in, while our hands don’t stop touching skin. It’s as if we’re trying to crawl inside each other, unable to get close enough without morphing into one. All the while, he keeps thrusting himself inside me with heavy, rough strokes of his cock.

When he presses his forehead against mine and our gazes lock, his tears drip from his face and mix with my own on my skin once again.

“You deserve me,” I whisper into his ear, but he shakes his head and thrusts himself deeper inside me.

“No, Norah. Don’t fucking say it.”

I grip his chin and try to force his eyes to mine, but he refuses and buries his face into my neck. A guttural sob vibrates from his lungs, and the heavy strokes of his cock inside me become harder and deeper and faster.

This moment is nothing like the first time we made love. It’s raw and animalistic, and despair hovers over us like a dark cloud.



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