Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
The parking lot’s lights flicker, forming shadows on Kane’s stoic face. His chest that’s usually so calm and controlled is now rising and falling in an unprecedented rhythm.
The more his darkened gaze sweeps over me, the harder it is to breathe.
He leans down, blocking the horizon, and thrusts his knee between my parted legs. A tremor ripples through me as his hand skims over my skin before he grabs the dress’s fallen strap and twists it between his lean fingers.
“You had the fucking audacity to come to my territory, wearing the dress I fucking bought you, while wrapped all over another man.”
There’s a deceptive calm to his words, but his voice is rough, unrefined, edged with a barely contained fury. He’s also cursing, so he’s not as much in control as he pretends to be.
I support myself on my elbows and lift my chin, acting like his presence is meaningless and not—in fact—messing with my head. “Why would you care? We’re done, aren’t we? I’m nothing, aren’t I?”
“You are nothing. You’re so below nothing, you don’t even exist on the map.”
Rage ignites deep in my belly, but I force a smile. “And yet here you are. Acting unlike yourself for a nothing.”
His shoulders bunch tightly, coiled with tension, and his authoritative tone wraps around every word. “I’m only warning you that while you’re working for the team, you can’t flaunt yourself around with our rival.”
“What I do on my own time is none of your business. Whether I flaunt myself with your rival or let him fuck me or ride his cock all night isn’t something you should worry about.” I push at his chest. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to finish with Marcus.”
One minute, I’m sitting, the next, Kane’s hand wraps around my throat and he shoves me back against the car, his grip not choking, but tight enough to render me motionless.
A breeze sweeps through his hair as he hovers over me like a monster, and his words come out clipped. “You seem to have been deluded into thinking you can allow another cock to claim you, Dahlia. The thing is, you don’t have that liberty. You can’t belong to anyone else when you’re fucking mine.”
He lowers his head, his lips hovering over my mouth, so close, I can taste the violent passion. So close, his hot breaths mingle with mine.
And for a moment, I want to give in. To let him consume me again.
Own me.
Show me that what we share is only ours.
I don’t know what fabric people are made of, but his and mine are identical. We revel in the hate and violence, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss his touch.
Or the liberty that comes with relinquishing my control to him.
But I didn’t go through all of this shit just to get him back.
Things have to happen on my terms.
At the last second, I turn my face, looking at the silver car parked next to his.
Kane pauses, his grip loosening a little from around my throat as if he’s been caught off guard.
I look at him again and, sure enough, a puzzled look takes refuge in his icy eyes and his brows dip. He can’t imagine me refusing a kiss, especially since I was always the one who initiated them.
Craved them.
Demanded them.
Not now, though.
My fingers wrap around his hand that’s on my throat. “Tell me you care about me first.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I know I did, but I’m not sure whether or not you’re joking.”
“I’m not. I want to hear you say you care, and that, from now on, you’ll allow me to get close. I want a true relationship, not a sex-buddies situation. You’ll take me on dates and tell me about yourself. You’ll watch movies with me and let me just chill at your place, even if there’s no sex involved.”
He pauses.
I pause, too.
That’s not what I had planned. I only wished for him to stop pushing me away, but maybe, deep down, that’s exactly what I’ve wanted this whole time.
I really hate it when he emotionally abandons me as soon as the sex is over.
It didn’t bother me in the beginning, but then it started to make me feel anxious.
“You’re out of your mind,” he says in a bewildered tone.
But he still has his hand on my throat.
He still hasn’t left, his fingers burning metaphorical holes in my skin.
“For wanting normal?” I ask.
“We’re not fucking normal, Dahlia.”
“I know, but sex isn’t all we have either, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that’s the case.”
His fingers tighten around my neck. I can see the conflict in his eyes—that part of him that fits perfectly with mine—wavering, flickering, but there’s also his annoying control-freak part, the one that always drags him back behind his defenses.
The part I’ve never managed to win against.