Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Mr. Mine slides in next to me, and my heart skips a beat as I hear the thud of the door closing shut.
It's just the two of us again, and while I love that it's so—-
"We really do need to talk," I say reluctantly.
"We do," Mr. Mine agrees. "And we will. Later."
"But—-"
Mr. Mine hauls me to his lap, and I forget why I want to talk in the first place the moment I feel myself straddling his muscled thighs.
Mr. Mine is right, I think dreamily.
Why waste time talking now when there's this thing that's oh so big and hard that has started poking my belly?
Poke, poke, poke it goes, and lust reenters my bloodstream.
His gaze captures mine, and the look in his eyes—-
"You're the one doing it this time," I whisper.
"Do what?"
"Looking at me like you want to eat me."
"Because I do."
Sweet, sweet, sweeeeeet fantasy, baaaaaaby.
When words utterly fail me, there's always the Mariah Carey to articulate what I want to say, and everything that's happening right now is the sweetest fantasy, since it wasn't so long ago when I really believed it was over between us.
Oh, Mr. Mine.
Mr. Mine stiffens when he sees my lip start to tremble. "What's wrong?"
I wish I can tell him there's truly nothing wrong this time, but all I can do at the moment is bite my lip hard to keep myself from crying stupid tears of joy.
Stop being such a crybaby, self!
Mr. Mine's jaw clenches. "If you're suddenly having second thoughts about me, just forget it."
"But—-"
"I don't give a fuck if you suddenly feel I'm too old for you. You're mine now," he says savagely, "and I'll never let you go."
Oh.
Wow.
Mr. Mine is being jealous again.
Hihihi.
I cup his face, and he jerks at my touch.
"If you had just let me speak, I would've told you that the reason I'm fighting back tears is because I'm happy."
"Bullshit."
"But it's true," I insist. "You're the only man I've ever cared about—-" My voice trails off when Mr. Mine takes hold of my hands before gently lowering them down.
"You say such words easily, my sweet."
"Because it's true."
"And yet you've let that boy touched you."
Uh...oh.
"Did you not?"
He makes me feel defensive, but I choose to go on the offensive instead. "What about you?" I ask archly. "Do you expect me to believe that the whole time we weren't together, you never—-"
"Never."
Uh...oh, 2.0.
I don't waste time making amends, and I apologize in a rush. "My bad. I'm sorry."
"Not good enough, I'm afraid."
The menacingly soft way he's drawled those words out makes me a little nervous, and so I bite my lip and say, "But Rashad—-"
The distraction works like a charm, and Mr. Mine's gaze narrows. "How did you know my name?"
"I heard Dr. Al-Masri use it earlier when he was talking to you."
"You know Adam?"
"I know of him." I look at him curiously. "How do you know Dr. Al-Masri?"
"We...share the same blood."
"Then...that means you're part Huznan as well?"
"Will it bother you if I say yes?"
I look at him in surprise. "Why should it?"
His gaze turns hooded, and I have a feeling what he's about to say matters a lot to him. "Most people are under the impression that men from...our kingdom are of a certain type."
Understanding dawns, and I look at him with sham terror. "Oh no! I forgot all about that, and now I'm so scared!"
Mr. Mine rolls his eyes.
I wrap my arms around myself in a gesture of self-defense. "Please don't hurt me, sir. Please—-"
His finger is suddenly on my lips, and I shut up in an instant.
"You've made your point," he says dryly.
But just as he's about to pull his finger off, something wicked this way comes, and before I know what I'm doing, I already have his finger in my mouth, and I'm sucking on it like his pointer is my favorite lollipop.
Mr. Mine curses hoarsely his breath, and lust oozes out of my pussy at the sound.
"Enough."
But this only makes me suck harder on his finger, and Mr. Mine breathes hard.
A moment later, I feel his hand cup my cheek, and he says gently, "Enough, Madeleine."
It's his first time to say my name, and his method of distraction also works like a charm. My lips part in shock, and it's my turn to ask, "How did you know my name?"
"Your grandfather called you Maddy, didn't he?"
"Oh." He sounds a little too smooth, but I'm probably just imagining things.
"I prefer Madeleine, though."
And when he says my name like he's making love to every syllable—-
I prefer it, too.
So much so that—-
"Say it again, please."
"Why?"
"Because I like how you say it."
"Because of my accent?"
"No."
"Then why...Madeleine?"
A sweet ache squeezes my pussy, and I feel my body melting against his as I say, "Because you say it like I'm yours."
"You are."
"And you?" I ask tremulously. "Are you mine?"
"I am."
He says the words so swiftly and firmly, it almost feels like a dream.