Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“I know.” I touch his cheek. “Please, Connor.”
He pushes inside in one smooth stroke, a full-body shudder rolling through him.
This is so much more than sex. It’s more than sensation and need. I feel my heart opening as his lips brush mine and he whispers my name like a prayer.
In this perfect place, hidden away from the rest of the world, I can forget about the contract I signed. About the time limit we’ve set. About the reasons I said yes.
Here in this moment, I am claimed and claiming. I’m his, and he’s mine. And I never want us to end.
CHAPTER 29
CONNOR
Iwake up wrapped around my wife for the second time in as many days.
My wife.
Mildred’s breathing is slow and even. We stayed up late last night, giving in to the chemistry that’s been steadily building over the past several weeks. I’m afraid to move, to break this peace. What if last night was a culmination of all the stress of our engagement? What if she changes her mind and decides sleeping together is a bad idea?
Unfortunately, my bladder is screaming at me, so I carefully slide my arm out from under her and ease out of bed.
When I return a minute later, Mildred has rolled into my spot and stolen my pillow.
She cracks a lid when the floor creaks. I freeze, waiting to see what will happen. She blinks at me, eyes still heavy with sleep, but her gaze warms as it moves over my mostly naked form.
She shifts over and pats my pillow. “Come back and cuddle me.”
Relief is warm in my veins. I climb back into bed and stretch out next to her, slipping my arm under her.
She moves into the crook and wiggles around, grumbling, “Still not close enough.” She pulls herself on top of me, tucking her head under my chin.
“Are you feeling exceptionally affectionate?” I run my hand up and down her back, skimming the tiny doves tattooed below her shoulder blade that I discovered last night. “Or are you horny?”
“Probably more the former than the latter, but you’re poking me in the stomach, and other parts of my body are getting ideas, even if they’re a little sore. Should I move? Is this too much for you?”
“It’s not too much.” I like that she wants to be close to me, whatever the reason.
“Do you want to be this close to me?” She traces the angel wings on my chest.
“Yes.” I run my fingers down her spine. “I’ll take any excuse to be in your orbit, no matter how villainous.”
“Did your parents hug you when you were a kid?” She kisses my chest, right over my heart, as if she already knows the answer.
“Not really. We had nannies. Sometimes they were affectionate, but those ones never lasted long.”
She lifts her head, chin resting on my chest. “Why not?”
“Jealousy, probably? Once I called one of the nannies Mom by accident. She was gone the next day.” I was five. My mother had been in the other room and overheard. She slapped the nanny. I’ll never forget my mother’s rage, the nanny’s shock, or how angry I was at myself for ruining something good.
“I’m so sorry.” Mildred slides her arms under my back and squeezes me.
I wrap my arms around her and squeeze back. “I’m guessing you didn’t get many hugs, either.”
“No.” She rests her cheek on my chest so I can’t see her eyes, but I hear the sadness. “My parents were too high to pay attention to me most of the time. And when they did… Usually it was better if they just ignored me or forgot I was there.”
Rage, violent and consuming, hits me in a rush. If they weren’t already gone, I would hunt them down and find a way to make them pay.
She kisses the bottom of my chin, probably sensing my sudden tension. “I survived all the bad things, Connor.”
“You shouldn’t have had to endure them in the first place.”
“Neither should you, but here we are. Bad parents are bad parents. It doesn’t matter if they’re poor drug addicts or rich assholes. They do damage, and we either survive and thrive to spite them, or we repeat history.” She shifts, pulling herself higher. “I’m going to kiss you now, and we’re going to stop talking about things that hurt us and instead we’ll focus on the things that make us feel good, okay?”
“Yes, darling.”
“You’re terrible at this game.” Mildred is all smiles as she kicks my ass for the tenth time at Mastermind.
“Or maybe I’m letting you win so I can see your face light up with evil glee,” I offer.
“Or maybe you’re just really bad at it,” she quips.
“It is a possibility,” I agree. “I haven’t had nearly the same opportunities as Flip to hone my board game skills.”
“Practice makes perfect.”