Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
His heart slams against my palm as his hands clamp onto the back of my thighs, hoisting me up until my legs cinch around his waist. His tongue dives into my mouth as he backs us up into the shower. He bends to crank the faucet, stepping us into the tub without breaking the hungry lock of our lips.
Lowering me with careful strength, my arms wind tight around his neck as warm water rushes over us, soaking through our clothes.
He pulls back from the kiss, yanking his shirt off, and revealing every hard line of his body, where ink sprawls across his skin.
I tear off my tank and underwear, and he’s back on me, his weight pressing down, heavy and right. I spread my legs wider, letting him settle between them, silently praising whoever built this oversized tub for two.
His mouth grazes my chest, dragging a slow path down until it finds me, right where I’m aching. My back bows off the cold porcelain, fingers twisting into his wet hair. I prop myself on my elbows, catching his gaze lifting to mine. That sharp jaw works with purpose, blue eyes blazing under dark lashes, his tongue tracing long, unhurried strokes that set me on fire.
A sly grin curls his lips as he slows down, taking his damn time. He’s not rushing; he’s feasting, his mouth a slow, reverent claim.
My chest heaves, each breath coming faster than the last. His tongue slips inside, drawing a raw moan from deep in my throat that I couldn't swallow if I tried. Sweat mingles with the water on my skin, his deliberate pace fucking destroying me. I grip the edge of whatever's behind me as reality blurs at the edges.
His thumb presses against my clit, circling as his tongue moves with brutal precision, and my thighs clamp around him like I'm afraid he'll stop. Like I'm afraid he won't. Sparks erupt behind my eyes—not the pretty kind, but the kind that burn—my body shuddering under his control, surrendering to whatever the hell this is between us.
He deepens his assault, pulling another raw sound from me as my skin slicks with heat and water. His thumb grinds harder, working in sync with his tongue, sending jagged bolts of pleasure through every nerve until I’m trembling, barely holding on.
He pushes up onto his fists, his mouth hovering over mine. There’s a battle raging inside of me, between what I want and what I shouldn’t.
“Nobody touches you again, baby. I fucking swear it.”
His words hit me somewhere deep, somewhere I thought had gone numb. The shower spray beats against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the weight of what he's saying, what he's promising.
Fuck. When did I start believing him?
My chest tightens. Not from fear this time, but from something worse. Hope. Dangerous, stupid hope that tastes like future regret. I should know better. I do know better. But standing here with water streaming between us, his voice cutting through years of carefully constructed walls, I let myself feel it.
The trust burns through me, unexpected and unwanted and completely fucking real. This shouldn't make sense. Being owned, being his—it should terrify me. Should make me run. Instead, my broken pieces shift, realigning into something that might actually hold this time.
Mine.
“I know,” I murmur instead.
His body shifts over mine, skin slick and warm. When he slides inside, there’s a careful weight to it, like I’m worth protecting, not just another piece to shatter.
I arch up, legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper.
With every thrust, the past fades, burned away with each touch, each gasp. Right now, it’s just us. No echoes, no darkness lurking in the corners.
My nails carve down his back as his pace builds, our mouths crashing together in a messy, desperate tangle. I lock an arm around his neck, fingers fisting in his hair, holding him close like I could keep this moment forever.
His hips grind down with each stroke, pelvic bone hitting my clit while he finds that spot inside that has me gasping like I'm drowning. Fuck. Fuck. This is going to ruin me. He drives into me harder, our bodies slapping together. Wet, obscene, perfect. My thighs burn from holding this position, muscles shaking as my pussy clenches around him, that familiar pressure building low in my belly.
I can't — but my body doesn't give a shit what I can't do.
Everything crashes through me. From the breakdown that left me raw, to the alcohol still making my head swim, and now this. Hella fucking me like he wants to crawl inside my skin and live there. It's too much. Too fucking much. My nails dig into his shoulders, needing something to hold on to before I shatter completely.
His fingers find my nipple, pinching hard enough to hurt, sending electricity straight to my core. His teeth catch my bottom lip, biting down before sucking it into his mouth.