Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
A slight smirk lifts his gorgeous lips. “My territory is more fun. Just saying.”
“It’s also more destructive and causes strain to anyone who’s not you.”
“If by strain you mean coming a few times a night, then sure, it’s a massive strain.”
I glare. He stares back, still smirking.
Then again, it’s impossible to make him abandon all bad habits in one go. The fact that he’s willing to listen without imposing his threats and ultimatums is progress as it is.
Small steps, right?
“Moving on,” I sign. “Another method is to tell the other person something no one else knows.”
“I will only do that if you reciprocate.”
I narrow my eyes. There he is back to the choices. But this one seems fair enough, so I nod.
“I’ve never considered any of my statues a masterpiece.”
I straighten in my chair. “Are you joking?”
“When have I ever?”
I stare at his face, but there’s no hint of a lie. He means it. He actually thinks all his absolutely gorgeous, though often disturbing, pieces are not all that.
“But you always say you’re an untouchable genius and God’s gift to the art community and humanity.”
“That I am. I just still haven’t produced the piece I’ve been wanting to since I was two years old.”
“What defines a masterpiece for you?”
“It’s just a feeling. I’ll know it when I experience it.” He points his glass at me. “Your turn.”
I bite the corner of my lip and then release it. He really did tell me something special, so I can’t just hide from this.
Maybe it’s because of my inexplicable need to build up the bond between us, but I go for it. “I never told anyone about my kidnapper, because they said if I mention anything, they’ll know and will kill that person in front of my eyes.”
My limbs tremble as I sign the words. The words due to which my entire world has been flipped upside down leave me like a whoosh of icy air.
“Is that why you stopped speaking?” Landon asks in an eerily calm tone.
I nod. “My family thinks it’s because of the trauma and I let them believe that.”
Why am I telling him all of this? Why am I digging my fingers into the old, infested wound even though it hurts?
It’s alcohol. Must be the alcohol.
Landon stands up and I’m too slow to follow his movements. Before I know it, he’s beside me. He removes his jacket and places it around my shoulders, then presses down gently.
It's then I realize that not only my hands are shaking, but my whole body is.
Landon lowers himself so his face is level with mine. The scent of his cologne sends a strange calming effect through me and I inhale him, breathing in as much as my lungs can take.
Isn’t it mad that I find peace in a monster?
My eyes meet his darker ones, but for some reason, they appear lighter, shinier, like the sky before sunset.
“I’m drunk,” I sign. “Forget everything I said.”
“On the contrary, I will remember every word.” He slides a stray strand behind my ear and I lean my cheek against his warm hand. “No one steals from you and gets to breathe, little muse. I’ll make sure you regain your voice even if it’s the last thing I do.”
My breathing comes in short intervals, but before I can think of anything to say, Landon lowers his head and nips my bottom lip.
Then in one swooping motion, he dips down and claims my mouth with a ferocious passion. He doesn’t only kiss me, he feasts on me. His tongue curls around mine, sweeping, tasting, and biting.
Landon has always been more interested in sex, but he’s rarely kissed me. This one, however, is more than a kiss.
It’s a whispered promise.
A nonnegotiable claim.
A new beginning.
Because I know, I just know, Landon and I will never be the same after this.
28
LANDON
This entire charade of practicing empathy has been proving more tedious than my sexual frustration.
And that’s saying something, considering my cock has been a literal dick ever since we’ve been closed for business.
Forget trying to shag other women. I can’t even look at them without imagining Mia’s soft face, pouty lips, and bright eyes looking at me like my own sex goddess.
Once upon a time, before she came along, I used to go to deviant sex clubs to find women who are into the unholy kinks I like to dish out. But after making the acquaintance of Mia’s sweet cunt and ferocious fight, the mere thought of touching someone else brings a foul taste to the back of my throat.
So now, I’m nothing more than a tension-filled entity of irritation and violence. An existence that can neither be measured nor contained and that keeps growing bigger with each passing second.
My beast has been scratching and clawing at the walls of my sanity, demanding a purging outlet. The crazier the better.