Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Fisting a handful of my hair, he pulls my head back until I’m staring at our reflections in the mirror.
“Watch me fuck you,” he commands.
It would be impossible not to. Once my gaze fixates on us, it won’t let go.
There’s something so hot about watching this beast of a man absolutely destroy me. He was built to claim, and I already know I’m going to feel him for days.
His fingers bite into my hip as he punctuates his words with more punishing thrusts.
“Three. Fucking. Years. Chantel.”
“I know,” I say again, the words nearly getting caught in my throat.
“Who does this belong to?” He drives into me.
“You,” I whisper.
“So why the fuck did you take it away?”
“Because you made me want things I can’t have,” I cry out.
I regret it the moment I say it. It’s too honest. But this is what he does to me, and part of me resents him for that.
He shouldn’t be able to get through my defenses.
He’s not supposed to matter.
But the emotion in my voice proves otherwise, and I know he heard it.
He slows things down, flipping me onto my back and settling his weight between my thighs.
Dragging his fingers through my hair, he takes my mouth in a languid kiss that dissolves the tension between us.
There’s a quiet intensity to the way he rocks into me. He’s not just fucking me. Whatever this is, it’s deeply intimate, and I shouldn’t like it. But it feeds something inside me I’ve tried so hard to erase.
My mind is at war, and right now, I can’t tell which side is winning. So I just surrender to the moment.
Pressing my fingers into his back, I succumb to a long, soul-deep release that leaves me boneless and wrung out.
With heavy eyes, I watch Bran pull out with a groan and mark me with his cum for a second time.
Something inside me feels achingly empty as he does that. Because I realize I’ll never know what it feels like for him to finish inside me.
“Thinking greedy thoughts?” He brushes my hair aside, thumb grazing my cheek.
“How did you know?” My lip tips up at the corner.
“You hold your breath.”
“Really?” I frown.
“Among other things.” Amusement threads through his voice.
“What other things?” I call after him as he rises from the bed and heads for the bathroom.
“Can’t give away all my secrets.”
My eyes gravitate to the tattoo I didn’t know he had. A pair of black wings stretches across the expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.
It’s a beautiful piece of work, and the canvas is, well, perfect—which is rather annoying. Men as hot as Bran should not be allowed to cover themselves in ink. Nobody needs another reason to stare at him.
Especially me.
When he returns with a damp cloth to clean me up, my gaze roams over his face.
“Have you always had that?”
“No.”
I’m not sure how he even knew what I was referring to, but it’s not a surprise. The way this man can read my mind is actually quite unnerving.
He finishes cleaning me up, then heads back into the bathroom to take care of himself. While he’s doing that, I grab a couple of waters from the fridge and down half of mine by the time he returns.
A fresh wave of uncertainty settles over me at the thought of what comes next. So naturally, I delay the inevitable by excusing myself to the bathroom.
I take my time washing up and brushing my teeth, but eventually, I run out of things to do. Then I reason that it can’t be that bad.
It’s only ten minutes.
When I re-enter the room, Bran is lying on the bed waiting for me.
I hover outside the bathroom door, feeling incredibly awkward when I realize I don’t know how to go about this.
“Come here,” he orders softly, relieving me from my internal struggle.
In circumstances like this, it’s easier when he just tells me what to do.
My heart picks up speed as I pad over to the bed and crawl toward him. But when I reach him, a new problem presents itself. Am I supposed to lie down? How close? I have no idea what he wants.
“I need direction,” I mumble.
“Here.” He pats the space beside him.
I swallow what feels like a golf ball in my throat and lie down. But before I can settle myself, he draws me closer, resting my head on his chest and stretching my arm across his waist.
I feel like I’m stiff as a board, but apparently not.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“This was a bad idea.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip on me.
“Chantel.” He tips my gaze to his, warm fingers feathering over my jaw. “Just breathe.”
I don’t really want to, but I draw in an unsteady breath, mostly so I don’t die.
While I’m doing that, his palm sweeps the length of my back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Admittedly, it feels good, and he obviously knows it. He does it again, slowly massaging the tension from my muscles as he works his way back up.