Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“We’ve overindulged, haven’t we?” I ask and pat his cheek.
“A little,” he admits with a groan. “Tell me not to drink tomorrow. But I didn’t fuck things up, did I?”
I shake my head and peel off his socks, then drop them to the floor. “You’re doing great. And now, you need to rest so you have the energy to continue tomorrow,” I point out and poke him in the nose. Because I can.
Well, really, it’s because I can’t stop myself from doing it when he’s acting all cute, sue me. It’s the first time I have a man in this bed, and I’ve made my coming out official. No more whispers about me being bisexual.
And it’s not just any man. Killian is such a walking contradiction. Both rebellious and submissive. Trying to escape me, yet clearly desperate to be loved. And he’s my type with the dark makeup around the eyes, the I-don’t-give-a-fuck style, the nose ring, and the ink I can’t wait to finally uncover in all its glory.
I’ve seen parts of him, but not all of him, and that’s about to change as I peel off his top. It seems that the snake theme features boldly on his skin. On one arm there’s a viper climbing all the way to his shoulder, while on the other, patches of snakeskin peer through artistically rendered tears. A smaller one originates on his collarbone and goes all the way to his neck where its head is pierced by a sword.
I expect a whole pit of snakes on his chest, but a surprise awaits me there. Flowers. Intricate floral ink scattered as if his body is a greenhouse for beauty. I lower my face to his heart and inhale the delicate scent of perfume. I never thought I’d enjoy scents typically associated with women, but on Killian, they just work. I want to eat him up.
“Do you… like what you see?” he asks as if I haven’t already told him how much I desire him.
I don’t mind needy. I want him to crave my affection and give it to him freely, so I kiss the soft skin and open his jeans next. “You’re insanely hot. I can’t wait to learn every inch of you by heart.” With that, I tug down his pants.
He gasps, and I spot that his dick is hardening in the jockstrap. A fresh pair, because after what we did in the changing rooms, he needed to clean himself up.
“Is this the marital bed?”
Another serpent greets me on his thigh and I run my fingers over it.
I nod but have other things on my mind now. “Why snakes? They’re everywhere on you.”
He raises himself on his elbows and looks into my eyes. He is hypnotic. I want to make him moan and squeal as well as kiss him all over. I crave to turn him around and see if the spanking he took so willingly has left bruises.
“As a symbol of rebirth,” he whispers, and it feels so intimate to be here with him in the darkness. “Every time I get my heart broken feels like I’m dying. But then I just emerge into a new life. With new skin. Like a snake.” He still slurs a little, he’s drunk, yet sounds so poetic in his sadness. I’ve never met someone so raw and unpretentious. “I hope you’re not my next snake.”
My throat closes and I drop his pants before joining him on the bed. I stretch alongside his slender form and place my hand on his chest, watching, listening to his breath. Somehow, I know what I’ve been aware of for hours now—that despite still calling this relationship fake, I want to make this real.
He needs to be mine.
Whenever I read about men meeting someone and immediately knowing that person would be their spouse, it sounds like a lot of romantic bullshit, but now I get it, I really do.
Because he is perfect, and I don’t want to let him slip out of my grasp.
“Only if you’re also a snake, and we can wrap around each other.”
Killian smiles and puts his thigh over my leg. “I like that,” he mutters and goes in for a kiss that is as sweet as it is hungry. His fingers climb my arm, and my heart thuds in excitement when he presses his whole body to mine, pretty much naked and shameless. I remember how that sex toy pushed in and out of him, how he begged for release and followed instructions like a good boy.
And now we’re making out in my childhood bed like two horny teenagers.
“I like you,” I say, and while it’s the most cliché thing I could have responded with, he chuckles and drunkenly rubs himself against me. Which would be an amazing start to sex in any other situation, but I don’t want to risk that he doesn’t remember any of it tomorrow, and peel him off me. I already miss his needy lips.