Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
We.
Together.
Merde.
It’d taken everything I had to get away from her. To stop myself from shoving her down and taking her. I wanted to take her as me, not the Master I played. Take her as a man who was rapidly realising that something else lurked within him.
Something deeper, darker, nastier.
Something loyal and lost and longing.
I didn’t know what lurked inside, but I did have urges to wrap her in bubble wrap and place her on a pedestal, all while tearing into her mind and chaining her to me forever.
Those needs fucked me up.
Those needs were getting harder and harder to control.
And when she’d kissed me?
The first time anyone had gotten close enough to give me something instead of letting me take, I’d broken.
I’d hurt.
Goddamn, I’d hurt.
Even now, my heart throbbed with bruises. I couldn’t stop picturing the mortification on her pretty face. She’d tried to kiss me. To give me peace, comfort…herself.
Christ, you’re a fool.
I should’ve kissed her back.
Should’ve put aside my stupid promise not to taste and kissed her.
I groaned and rubbed my face.
All my life, I’d searched for somewhere—someone—to belong to. I’d let loneliness become a trigger and emotion to become deep pain. I’d twisted myself into something that craved another’s despair, all so I could forget my own.
I’d broken when I was just a boy, unwanted by a mother far too traumatised to care. I’d learned to survive in a laughless, loveless home, and now both of those things fucking petrified me.
The thought of Ily seeing that brokenness? Seeing just what a fraud I was—that I couldn’t stomach the thought of loving or laughing or being…vulnerable?
Jesus Christ.
Yanking on my hair, it took all my willpower to stay behind that door while Ily ate unmolested. I gave her the only thing I could: space. Precious time to gather herself together so tomorrow she could stay strong and pretending by my side.
If I managed to turn off the scrambler, I had no idea if Q would come immediately or take his sweet ass time arranging his mercenaries.
He might come at dawn or dusk.
He might never come.
And if I planned on keeping myself and Ily alive, then I had to be fucking smart.
Starting with not kissing her. Not caring for her. Not allowing the beast inside me to claim what wasn’t his to claim.
She’s a tool.
That’s it.
As long as I thought of her as nothing more than a co-star and she continued playing along with me, then we could get through this.
We have to.
* * * * *
I crashed to the floor.
I woke with a jolt, hands fisted, arms up, ready for war.
It took a moment to get my bearings, tearing at the exhausted curtains drawn across my mind. The light above the vanity burned my eyes, glowing around the tree stump-shaped sink and mocking me where I hunched on the floor.
Bits and pieces came back.
Sliding down the door while waiting for Ily to eat. Tiredness creeping over me the longer I gave her space. My chin nodding, my eyes closing…
I must’ve drifted off sitting up.
Great.
Groaning at the kinks in my spine, I staggered to my feet. I jerked as my gaze bounced back in the mirror. Unkempt and messy hair. Almost gaunt face. A thicker five o’clock shadow from not shaving.
Goddammit, what time is it?
Was it the witching hour and time to execute a little breaking-and-entering?
Panic wrenched through me.
Ily.
I’d left her alone for God knew how long. Had she left to go back to Peter and the others? I’d locked the door, but what if someone decided to take her—
Shit.
Unlocking the bathroom door, I stumbled into the bedroom.
And froze.
Ily lay curled up right in the middle of the bed as if she’d toppled sideways after her last mouthful. Her legs drawn up to her chin. Arms wrapped around her knees in a foetal position. Her negligee didn’t offer any decency, and the peak of her pussy between her delectable thighs sent my heart reeling.
She flinched in her sleep as if horror bled into her dreams. Her soft pink lips parted, golden eyes squeezed closed, and raven hair spilled like ink around her. As beautiful as she was, she didn’t look peaceful. She looked afraid and tense, and every now and again, her entire body twitched as if running from monsters.
She’s so small.
So goddamn breakable.
I stood looming over her like a motherfucking stalker. Unable to look away. Completely corrupted by the sight of someone who’d been a total stranger yesterday and had somehow become someone of such importance today.
Important?
To the mission only.
Balling my hands, I nodded.
Yes, that’s what I meant.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Padding around her, I gathered up the empty plates from the end of the bed and stacked them as quietly as I could on the trolly by the door. My stomach snarled, annoyed that she’d eaten every fry and every crumb. It seemed only one of us would be sated tonight.