Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
He eases himself back in, a few inches at a time, his lips brushing over mine.
“I like it when you get jealous, you know that?” he whispers against my mouth, his words breaking off into a groan. “I like it when I’m on stage and I see you watching me with all that lust in your eyes. I like that I can drag you into this bathroom, we can fight and yell, and then I can fuck your brains out. I don’t just like it. I love it.”
My heart expands in my throat. I can’t speak, I can only feel, and the intense gaze of his eyes tells me that something is happening, something new. He didn’t say he loved me but it was pretty damn close.
His eyes continue to burn into me as he pushes himself in and out, pumping steadily. He lightly places his fingers on my chin and holds my face, making sure I can’t break eye contact, can’t look away, can’t escape his gaze.
His feelings.
My feelings.
Our moans are hushed, our breaths rough and ragged as he moves inside me, his hips circling, round and round and round, so he hits each and every tightly wound nerve. Again and again.
It’s so fucking good.
It’s everything I dreamed we could be.
We are joined as one and the more he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, the warmer he feels, like a fire that can’t be held back much longer. A trickle of sweat rolls down his brow and his eyes pinch shut as he starts to climax, his mouth going for the crook of my neck where he bites and sucks and licks as he pounds me, losing control.
“Fuck, Marina, oh fuck,” he hisses, inhaling sharply. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Before I even have a chance to try and catch up, he lets go of my waist and strokes my clit with his free hand.
Boom goes the dynamite.
I explode outwardly, until I feel like there is nothing left and he explodes into me. I can feel him inside, hot and potent as I throb mercilessly around him, my nails digging so hard into his shoulders as I ride him out that I know they’re going to leave marks tomorrow.
My heart is huge, filled with shooting stars and rainbows.
This man.
This gorgeous specimen of a man, who fucks me with all he has.
I want to love this man forever
“Laz,” I whisper. “Don’t ever leave me.”
He’s breathing heavily into my shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it, loving everything he is.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers to me.
“I would be crazy to do so,” I tell him.
He pulls back to look at me. “You know you call yourself the crazy bee lady, right?”
He’s got that look I love in his eyes, the one only I bring to him. Sleepy, relaxed, happy. Absolutely satisfied. But there’s tenderness brimming underneath, laced with darkness. Fear. But I understand that fear because love, love is scary.
I smile shyly, suddenly feeling like it’s all so much, too much. The love I have for him is too big for the entire world to handle, let alone me.
What happens if he never loves me back?
What happens to love when it’s never returned?
Does it keep coming, keep flowing…can I love him enough for the both of us?
“We should get back,” I tell him, clearing my throat.
He nods, brows knitting together for a moment. “Of course.” He gently lowers me to the ground and we give ourselves the once over in the mirror, making sure we don’t look like we just screwed in the bathroom.
I think we just survived our first fight.
Have had our first makeup sex.
I just hope we can survive anything else that’s thrown our way.
I hate, hate, hate this sharp, niggling feeling deep inside, burrowing in my heart like a worm into an apple, that something horrible is coming.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LAZ
“IN CHAINS”
I want to be a part of that light in your eyes.
I want to be a part of the fight in your eyes.
I want to give you everything I don’t know how to give.
Like blood from a stone.
My fingers bleed from trying.
It feels like dying.
Knowing I’ll never give you what you need.
I stare at the words—lyrics, for once—feeling the darkness coming. Clouds that were always there on the horizon, a storm I could ignore if I just turned my back and faced the other way. Faced into the sunshine.
Into the light.
Marina is that light I faced into.
I was happily blinded.
“Hey,” Scooby says from the doorway, munching on cherry tomatoes straight out of the container.
I blink, trying to dispel that horrible, aching, clawing feeling, and come back to earth, back to normal. “Let me guess, you have an interesting fact about tomatoes?”
“No, just saying hello,” he says, popping one in his mouth. “No wait, I do. Did you know that the scientific name for tomato is lycopersicon lycopersicum which means ‘wolf peach’?”