Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
I’m crying out, opening my thighs for him, and a gripping rush is beginning that I can barely comprehend, only that I know he’s building me toward something I couldn’t do alone and he needs me to need him, and I do. And I show him that. My filthy fingers leave the earth and bury in his hair, a hoarse call of his name blasting from my lips when the clenching starts. The rhythmic clenching that seems to make him crazed, his eyes locked on me while he licks that spot furiously, his thumbs pressing into the insides of my knees. I can’t stop the crash that hits me, blurring my thoughts with cranberry-colored fuzz and taking hold of my entire lower half, the tickle turning into something big, bright, essential, pulsing deep in my sex, tension gathering, ebbing, gathering, ebbing while I scream myself hoarse, my shaking thighs wrapped around Koen’s head.
Blackness hits me like a two-by-four and my body goes limp. I attempt to struggle through the sudden lethargy, and it has almost beaten me when I notice a granola bar sticking out of Koen’s shirt pocket.
He notices me looking at it, stunned. “Eat, baby.”
I’m too undone and overwrought and hungry to do anything but take the granola bar and unwrap the damn thing, biting into it with gusto. “Chocolate chip,” I sigh.
His left eyebrow arches. “You thought I’d bring you oatmeal raisin?”
Uh oh. Belonging to this man is becoming more and more acceptable.
The last thing I remember is being carried to Koen’s SUV and, once I’ve finished the last bite of my granola bar under his watchful eye, I’m laid gently on the backseat, the engine rumbling beneath me as he takes me back to the Bat Cave on the cliff, his eyes finding me in the rearview at every single stoplight. Tonight, I’m letting myself forget all the reasons I can’t get attached to this man.
But tomorrow?
Tomorrow, I have to remember.
7
Koen
Meg blushes when she wakes up and realizes she’s in my arms.
It has been hours since I carried her into my home and laid her in bed. Leaving her here alone while I disposed of the dead man and his car was rather irritating, but I’m back now, holding the angel as she rests. I should be in the kitchen, fixing her something better than a granola bar to eat, but I can’t bring myself to abandon this feeling. This fiercely beautiful girl snuggling into the crook of my arm, her bent leg resting on my thighs. Her bare pussy is warm and soft against my hip, which has left my dick very hard for a very long time. I still haven’t relieved myself since getting her off in the field—and I don’t want to.
Not until I can be inside of her.
I’m fixated on doing exactly that. My willpower is being poured into resisting the urge to roll Meg onto her back, stroke and kiss her until she’s wet, then take her virginity.
I need it so bad.
I need to be her first and last. Need it understood that no one else will ever have the privilege of holding her while she sleeps. The privilege of fucking her.
Before Meg, women were no more interesting to me than a mile marker on the highway. Of course, every once in a while, sexual energy needs to be expended, but the act was always impersonal. Like everything else I do, I make goddamn sure I’m the best in case those skills will serve me in my line of work. So I studied the physical responses of these faceless women. Listened to their screams and pinpointed the parts of the female body that need the most attention to reach climax.
I never expected to feel reborn in the face of woman’s pleasure.
Meg’s.
When her body shook so sweetly for my tongue earlier, I was blessed with a new purpose in life. Give this woman a lifetime of bliss, any way I can.
None of this is hidden in my expression when she blinks into a state of consciousness and looks up at me, yawning drowsily. Blushing. I don’t deserve to experience innocence this closely, but I can’t look away. Can’t stop the obsession for her that is growing inside me so rapidly, I can feel it snapping tethers inside of my body.
“Hi,” she says softly, turning her pink face into my bare chest. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Four hours.”
Worry creases her brow, but she stays silent, staring off into the distance.
“Are you concerned about something?” I ask, my fingertips stroking a path from her temple to the curve of her shoulder. “Tell me what it is.”
“I’m…” She swallows, seeming unsure. “I’m usually home now. My brothers and sisters need me and I’m not there.”
I absorb this information about her like a greedy sponge. I’ve been too busy to make inquiries about Meg’s background, and to be honest, for the first time ever, I think I want to find out about her naturally. I want information about her to come freely, from her perfect mouth, because she trusts me. “Brothers and sisters,” I repeat, trying not to sound too eager. “How many?”