Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“You’re truly here!” She giggles, cups my face in her hands, and kisses me, but she pulls back a moment later, eyes wide with pretend panic. “How ever did you get past the guards?”
I search for a plausible way to have tricked the fictional guards. “I pretended I was but a mere servant and dosed their mead with fairy dust. They will slumber for hours.” I may or may not have spent a lot of time watching princess movies over the past few weeks just to feel close to Essie.
She runs her hands down my chest, bottom lip sliding through her teeth. “We have hours?”
“That’s right, my love.” I brush over her nipple with my thumb. “Hours for me to kiss every inch of you.” I skim her hip and dip between her thighs. “To bring you limitless pleasure.” I kiss the edge of her jaw. “To worship you.” I take her face in my hands. “To make you mine.”
“That’s all I want,” she whispers against my lips.
We kiss while she undresses me and pulls me onto the bed. I stretch out over her, settling in the cradle of her hips. “I would slay a thousand dragons to be with you.”
She runs her fingers through my hair. “Claim me, Nathan. Take me. Make me yours.”
“Always mine.” I kiss my way down her body, obsessed with the soft sounds she makes and the way her nails press into my shoulders as I make her come with my mouth, and then again with my fingers.
I pepper every inch of her with kisses as I work my way back to her lips. “Can this stay on?”
She grins. “You like my princess lingerie?”
“I love your princess lingerie.” I suck a nipple through the sheer fabric. “You are unbearably sexy.”
“So are you.” She hooks her leg over my hip. “Please make love to me.”
I settle between her thighs, and my erection slides over slick, hot skin. I hold her gaze as I sink into her, joining us.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips.
Her expression softens, eyes glassy with desire. “I love you, too.”
“With my whole heart,” I promise.
We move together, limbs entwined, eyes fixed on each other. My heart is safe with her, protected, cared for. I feel it in the gentle way she invites me inside her, mind, body, and soul.
She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure her heart is cared for in the same tender way she cares for mine.
My sunshine-and-rainbows other half.
The love of my life.
The woman of my dreams.
CHAPTER 41
ESSIE
“Where the heck is it?” I plant my hands on my hips, close my eyes, inhale through my nose, and exhale through my mouth. “Please be there when I open my eyes.”
I crack a lid, but my most favorite dress of all is still not where I expect it to be. To be fair, nothing I own is where I expect it to be anymore.
“Do not murder your very smart, very thoughtful, exceptionally organized, well-endowed, hot-as-hell boyfriend who embraces you and your slightly manic love of all things pink and romance because you cannot find your dress. Or literally anything you own,” I mutter.
“Who you talking to, sweetness?” Nate appears out of nowhere.
I shriek and slap a hand to my heart.
He hugs me and kisses the top of my head, and I melt a little at the feel of his arms around me and the smell of his cologne. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pulls back, and that delightful furrow in his brow makes traitorous parts of my body excited.
I try to remember that I’m slightly annoyed with him for not being able to telepathically communicate where he’s moved all my things. “Do you know where my pink, cap-sleeved, A-line, knee-length dress with the heart-patterned, hot pink belt is?”
He blinks at me. “I don’t know what half of those descriptors mean.”
“My favorite pink dress. The one that really highlights my cleavage.” It might be modest, but I know how to work it. Also, Nate is highly obsessed with my piercings and never passes up a chance to play with them. “Do you have any idea where it might be?”
“Oh! Yes.” He steps inside the tiny walk-in closet with me. I move to the doorway so he can turn around because the closet only qualifies as a walk-in when you’re under five-seven and not as broad as the doorway. “It’s right here.” He magically produces it. “I reorganized the closet, and since it’s technically autumn as of yesterday, I rotated these dresses to the back and brought your fall clothes to the front. I don’t know what your fall favorites are yet, but when I do, I’ll cycle them to the front so they’re easy for you to find.”
He smiles down at me, proud as punch and completely oblivious to the upheaval his organizational skills are creating in my life. But he’s so handsome when he smiles like that. And he’s just trying to be helpful.