Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
A thrill of something I have no right to consider in this moment runs up my spine.
Her eyes lift to mine, something in them making me think she's seeing me for the first time. She's not afraid of me, not leery of what a man like me could do to her.
She doesn't know me, doesn't know what I'm capable of, and if she did, she'd run faster and further from me than she ever did from Whitmore.
She called me by my club name for the first time today, and that made me feel a hundred feet tall.
The way she's looking at me right now makes me wish I was on my knees, worshipping her in ways she never could've imagined.
The idea of what I'll never get the chance to do with this woman makes my tongue skate out, running over my lower lip. Her eyes lock on the movement, her own lips opening a fraction as if her head is exactly where mine is.
I'm no stranger to a woman's appeal, despite the don't-fuck-with-me attitude that seems to saturate every movement.
I can see exactly what she's thinking, and as much as I want what she thinks she wants, I know in some of the deepest parts that it just can't happen.
But then her eyes shift to mine for the briefest of seconds before once again dropping to my mouth.
She moves closer, and I lock into place, watching her every move.
I notice the way her hair brushes her cheek, the way her mouth opens slightly more, and the way her cheeks flush with the prettiest pink I've ever seen.
Then her fingers are tangling in the fabric of my shirt, the slightest tug of her hand drawing me closer as if she controls every movement of my body.
When she lifts her face a few inches, I drop mine just as low.
The warmth of her breath on my lips is my undoing.
The press of her lips to mine is an explosion of need.
The slickness of her tongue across my lower lip is the best thing that has ever happened to me in all my years on this earth.
Every excuse, every reason I shouldn't be doing this, is silenced.
That voice that accompanies me with every step and every action is muted.
The only thing that exists in this moment is her lips on mine, her tongue vying for entrance, and my acceptance of the request.
Electricity races up and down my spine, my body responding in every way it can.
The heat of her kiss wraps itself around me, cocooning me as if she's touching every inch of my body.
My heart races, my blood pumping loudly in my ears, and my cock thickens so rapidly that the arousal hits with a hint of pain.
I groan, opening my mouth and giving her the access she demands. My only thought, the only need my body seems to have, is to get this woman beneath me, joining us together in the most animalistic ways.
I inch closer, my arm wrapping around her back and pulling her flush against my body, and then I feel it.
The slightest pause and the way her body freezes is enough for me to stop.
I pull back, breaking the kiss and putting some distance between us.
It doesn't stop the increased heart rate or the flow of blood to my cock, but going forward isn't possible.
The lack of control, the inability to just shut it all off, makes my mind race. Since the night I stopped my father's abuse, every action, every move, every kill has been meticulous, planned, and processed with reasoning.
She has the ability to change all of that, and as unexpected as that is, I'm in no position right now to just accept it at face value.
Not being in control can't happen. Letting someone else have the ability to guide my actions makes me feel powerless.
I resist the urge to swipe at the wetness left on my lips as hard as I fight the need to sweep my tongue across it to get one last taste of her.
Her eyes are wild, her breath fast and unsteady.
"I didn't want you to stop," she confesses, her throat working on a swallow as if it took all the courage she could gather to speak those words.
"Your body did," I explain. "After what happened to you today... I won't be something you regret."
Trauma bonds are real, and I can't be a part of that for her.
Letting this go as far as it already has could increase her regret, and that won't do either of us any good.
Her safety, even if it's her mental health and not a physical derailment, over my desire is paramount.
I keep my eyes on her as she lifts her hand to her mouth, fingers pressing where my lips just were.
I use the moment to take another step back, putting even more space between us.