Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I whimper, rolling my hips up to meet his. He’s almost more than I can take, but I love this sensation of having my body owned by him.
Now he’s an unleashed beast, driving himself into me without restraint. I cry out, finally getting what I’ve wanted for so long. I urge him on, fighting his hold on my wrists at the same time.
It’s like trying to break out of iron handcuffs. There’s no give, and he’s fucking me the same way, with zero restraint.
His expression twists with satisfaction as he drives himself into me hard and fast. I want everything tonight. He’ll drive me wild with his mouth between my thighs and I’ll make him hiss and say my name as he unloads himself in my mouth. But first, I need this.
“Oh fuck.” He’s fighting himself, waiting for me.
That does it for me every single time. My body detonates, every part of me coming blissfully apart. He’s relentless, pulling every second he can get from my body before he finally buries himself in me one last time, tensing and groaning into my shoulder.
He kisses me softly before rolling onto his back, both of us breathless. I prop myself up on an elbow, tracing a fingertip down his chest.
“I enjoyed that,” I say lightly.
He grins. “So did I.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
He arches a brow, looking doubtful. “You sure about that?”
“I am. If you weren’t broody and completely controlled like ninety-seven percent of the time and irrationally impulsive the other three percent of the time, you wouldn’t be you.”
“It’s more like two percent. And I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either.” He props his head on a hand, gently brushing the hair from my shoulder. “Drink to me with only thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine.”
I can’t even breathe for a few seconds. This is one of the moments I hope I remember with total clarity, so I can revisit it anytime I want when I’m old and gray.
“It’s from a poem by Ben Jonson,” he says.
“And you ... know poetry?”
He grins. “I took a British lit class in college. Otherwise, no.”
“You didn’t need any help getting me into bed, but that’ll do it every time.”
He kisses me so soft and slow my heart races.
“Get dressed and meet me outside,” he says, sitting up and grabbing his pants.
“I ... what?”
He shoots me a grin. “Or grab a blanket, whatever.”
Now that I know we’re being watched by satellite, I go the clothes route. I don’t have anything to clean myself up with, but a blanket gets the job done.
When I crawl out of the tent, Marcus is standing at the shoreline, water lapping at his bare toes. The moon is bright tonight, the sky filled with twinkling stars and hardly any clouds.
I go to him and he puts an arm around my waist. We watch the ocean for a few silent seconds, and then he turns, easing my shoulder to the side so I turn, too.
When we’re facing each other, he gets down on one knee.
“Marry me. I know it won’t be legal or anything, but I don’t care about that. We can still pledge ourselves to each other. I want to wait until Mae can be there, but then ... marry me. In an ancient forest or at the top of a mountain. In a rundown shack. Alone or with everyone we know. Just say you’ll be my wife.”
I blink back tears and cup his cheeks, marveling at how many emotions can exist at the same time on this island. It’s brought me into deep valleys, but this is a peak I never knew possible.
“Yes. I will.”
He stands and lifts me into his arms, my feet leaving the wet sand as he spins me. A wolf howls in the distance, and I don’t even have to be able to see into the jungle to know every leaf is gently waving in soft applause.
48
“Commander Ingrid Voss died protecting the soldiers under her command on Island Seven. The island’s air is contaminated, and our men witnessed people dying. We will be maintaining a safe zone perimeter around it.” – excerpt from an electronic message from acting Island Three Commander Chad Portnoy to New America President Soren Whitman
Marcus
It’s bittersweet seeing Nova and Ellison with Sam, the little boy who’s theirs now.
The council voted that the Rising Tide kids would each go to a home, as long as enough people volunteered to take them in. There were more than enough volunteers.
Sam is three, with dark curls and bright-blue eyes. Nova’s been teaching him how to braid cordage. They made a jump rope and Ellison taught him to use it. The other kids line up for turns with it.
They’ve started to intermingle now—the kids who’ve always been in the Dust Walkers camp and the Rising Tide ones. Olin is leaving with us, so new teachers have been joining him for the learning and activities he does with them every day.