Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
My voice is calm even though I’m anything but. “Because you were pregnant with Tillie?”
Shock registers on her beautiful face for half a second before understanding settles it.
She nods. “I had hoped he would s-stop since I was pregnant.” Her hands knot into her skirt. “But it made him worse.”
“Because she was proof that he was a pedophile.”
She doesn’t try to hide her disgust from me. She simply nods before breathing out slowly. “I think th-that’s why he was so rough the last time. He wanted me to miscarry.” Wetness glosses her eyes, but her cheeks remain tear-free. “I didn’t want that. I wanted Ti—”
“I know,” I interrupt, stilling her fidgeting hands. “You don’t need to tell me, Mara. I know.” I take a deep breath, then hold her gaze while sharing a secret I had planned to take to the grave. “I am sure it was the same for Karolina with Riley. Even knowing how she was conceived and the hate associated with it, I’m confident she wanted her from the moment she knew of her existence.”
31
MARA
My chest grows tight and hot while waiting for Ark to expand on his reply, to explain how his baby sister is actually his niece. If I were holding my breath, I would have been asphyxiated by now. He isn’t exactly skirting, more not ready to be totally upfront with me.
I understand why. We were strangers only weeks ago.
It feels weird admitting that, particularly because I can still taste his cum on my tongue.
The reminder of how delicious he tastes has me squirming on his lap. Fortunately for me, my grumbling stomach frees me from looking like a heartless sex fiend.
“Hungry?” Ark asks, deliberately ignoring the elephant he left sitting in the corner of the room.
I want to push him some more, to reopen the lines of communication he’s endeavoring to shut down, but I also need a minute to wrap my head around the fact I shared the source of Tillie’s conception without hyperventilating.
Tillie wasn’t planned, but she is very much wanted. She gave me the will to live when I wanted to die and the strength to fight only yesterday when I thought my life had rewound a decade, where I was in Dr. Babkin’s office, striving not to die.
I am terrified about Tillie learning the method of her conception. It has nothing to do with who she is. She is much more than a byproduct of rape. She is my world, and I won’t allow anyone to make her believe differently.
But since I need time to work out how I can ensure that remains the case, instead of pushing, I say, “More like starved.”
I accept a soapy bowl from Ark before rinsing and drying it and placing it and two wine glasses into the kitchen cabinet. We’ve worked side by side for the past two hours cooking, eating, and talking.
It’s early. I don’t know the exact time since I haven’t been able to take my eyes off Ark for a single second. My guess is sometime in the a.m.
Despite the hour, I’d give anything for our exchange to continue. Our conversations rarely veered beyond meal prep and our mutual hunger, but a lack of conversational skills isn’t to blame. Another mutual craving has kept our word count at a minimum. It is very much sexually based.
You’d swear there’s a timer above our heads, ticking down too fast for us to keep up with, so we’re rushing through the stages most couples take months to achieve in hours.
The haste of our gathering would be scary if it didn’t feel so right.
It’s rushed but undeniably beautiful.
I shouldn’t be surprised. The shock of still being wanted after showing so much of my ugly side is addictive. I crave it as much as the sneaky glances Ark has hit my thighs with in the past two hours. His hooded watch has my hunger at a pinnacle, and I’m once again lost on how to ignore the elephant in the room.
I close my eyes and breathe in deep, inhaling the scent of Ark’s heated skin.
God, he smells good.
His cologne is pricy, and his choice of shampoo makes me feel safe, but I pay the most attention to our combined scents. I can smell my arousal on his skin and see the crinkles our heated exchange caused to his once pristine dress shirt.
I moan, incapable of denying the tension for a second longer before I pop open my eyes.
Ark is facing the same torturous battle. The front of his pants is extended, and he’s opening and closing his hands like he’s fighting the urge to delve them back into my hair.
“Ark…”
He saves me from making a fool of myself. In three quick strides, he takes my mouth hard and fast, the urgency of his touch sending sparks straight to my clit.