Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
The weight of my father’s abuse still lingers on my shoulders, but after finally letting it out, I feel lighter. I feel as though I have a new purpose. A fire has been lit inside of me, and there’s no longer a cold darkness that puts it out. I’m finally able to breathe, and it has everything to do with the man at the foot of the bed.
He held me all night, right through all the pain until the exhaustion claimed me, and I slept right there in his arms, in a bed I never thought I’d find myself in. You know, apart from the day I hid out in here, but that doesn’t count. He’s incredible, still the amazing man I always knew him to be, and I hate that we missed all that time together.
Ezra drops his pen back to the notepad, and I push up onto my elbow, watching him strum his guitar. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around his level of skill with that guitar. It’s amazing. Both he and Axel were given a gift that so many others could only dream of achieving. It’s inspiring. I’ve seen random YouTube videos where people try to break down their technique in the hopes of being half as good, but the boys are on a different level. Nobody could ever touch them.
Ezra closes his eyes as he plays a beautiful melody, and I can’t help but pull the blankets back and climb out of bed. My feet hit the ground, and I slowly pad around the edge of the bed, watching as he opens his eyes and lifts his gaze to me. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs.
I step into him, and as he puts his guitar aside, I slowly lower myself onto his lap, my knees on either side of his strong thighs. “You good?” he questions, brushing my hair off my face as those dark, dreamy eyes linger on mine.
My fingers linger on his chest, slowly trailing down to his waist before curling around the hem of his shirt and slowly dragging it up his toned body. He allows me to pull it over his head, and I toss it aside before leaning in and capturing his warm lips in mine.
His hands fall to my waist as mine curl around the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his thick hair as he slowly kisses me back.
My heart races, and something feels so different about this. It’s sensual, exactly what I’ve always craved from him, and I need it to last a lifetime, even if all we do is this.
His hands roam over my body before falling to the hem of the Demon’s Curse shirt I wore to bed. He pulls it up over my head, tossing it aside to join his discarded shirt beside us, and as his fingers brush over my body, goosebumps appear like a map, pointing out everywhere he’s touched me.
A shiver trails down my spine, and as I gaze at him, I can’t wait another second to speak the words I’ve always needed to say. “I love you, Ezra,” I whisper into the silence of the night as the moonlight dances across the room. “I think I might have yelled it at you a few times, but I mean it. I never stopped.”
His hand curls around the back of my neck, his thumb stretching toward my chin. “I know, Rae. I feel it every time you look at me. Every time you’re in the same room as me. Every time you say my name, it’s there. You don’t need to tell me, not when everything you are is so tightly bound to me. I’m not letting you go, Rae. You’re home now.”
Ezra pulls me back in, kissing me deeply while taking his time, every brush of his fingertips setting my skin on fire. He lowers his lips to my neck as his fingers skim across my thighs. Hunger burns through me, but I take my time, needing this to last the whole damn night.
A soft moan rumbles through my chest as his lips dance across my neck, teasing the sensitive skin below my ear, each swipe of his tongue sending an electric pulse right to my core. I tilt my head, giving him space to work as my hands roam over his strong chest.
My pussy clenches, and I reach down between us, freeing his cock from his pants and slowly wrapping my hand around his hardness. I pump my fist up and down, letting my thumb roll over his pierced tip and loving the way he shudders beneath me.
It’s not rushed and desperate like in the pool or backstage in Madrid. It’s just me and Ezra, the way it should have always been when we were younger. It’s exactly what I’ve always needed from him, and he’s giving it to me just right.