Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Frankie?”
“Yes. In a faraway, frozen world, I kissed her. And she kissed me.” I shift closer. “It wasn’t sexual.”
“What was it?” She breathes against my lips.
“Survival.”
“And what is this?” Her whisper tastes like vodka.
“This is sexual.” I erase the last millimeter. “And so much more.”
Our lips meet, and the world folds in on itself. There’s nothing else. No past. No ghosts. No nightmares. Just her and her warm mouth, colliding with mine in a crash of hunger and fire.
My hands hover for half a second before I find her waist, my fingers curling against the soft fabric of her top.
She kisses like she wants to forget. Like she’s on the edge of a cliff, and I’m the drop.
And me? I kiss her like a virgin on a mission to save the world.
I don’t know how to do this, but instinct takes over. My lips move against hers, learning her rhythm, tasting her urgency. She opens to me, and I groan from deep within my being. It spills out, confessing a truth I can’t hide. I want her so badly it hurts.
Her hands abandon the table and find my chest, the line of my jaw, the ends of my hair. She tugs me closer, and I can’t get enough. She invades my bloodstream.
I tilt my head and deepen the kiss, one hand sliding up her back, finding the curve of her neck. Her pulse pounds under my fingertips, mirroring mine, wild and free.
I pull her onto my lap, and she doesn’t resist. Her thighs straddle me again, but this time, it’s not chaotic. It’s electric. Her breath hitches as I press our lips together, licking, exploring, imprinting.
Her body molds to mine, and merciful gods, she belongs here. This is where she was always meant to end up. My fingers dig into her hips, anchoring her to me as I kiss her like it’s the first and last time I’ll ever get the chance.
When we finally break apart, it’s not for lack of wanting. It’s because we have to breathe or die trying.
“Damn.” Her forehead rests against mine, chest heaving, and lips swollen.
“You started it.”
“Don’t stop it.”
The first real kiss of my life doesn’t sneak in like a whisper. It rips me open like a knife wound, messy and aching. I’ve been so starved for this and didn’t know how empty I was until now.
Her lips feel warm and hungry, matching me beat for beat. Maybe she’s been waiting for this, too. Waiting for a man who missed out on kissing his whole life.
With years of exploration to make up for, I map her mouth like it’s the last frontier on Earth, my tongue dipping into every groove, learning the shape of her sighs and the density of her breath.
Straddling my lap, she digs her knees into the sides of my hips, and suddenly, the kiss isn’t slow anymore.
Her hands knot in my hair, pulling and demanding. Mine slide under the hem of her tank top, up her back, feeling the curve of her spine, the heat of her skin. She’s magnificent.
We shift and grip and press, her thighs clenching around me, my fingers digging into her waist as I wrench her closer, trying to melt us together.
We kiss until our lips are raw. Until my tongue goes numb. Until I know every secret hollow inside her mouth, and her taste permanently fuses with mine. There’s nothing gentle about it. Nothing careful. It bruises into memory and sets the benchmark for all that come after.
At some point, I carry her upstairs, our lips locked together. She’s light but fierce, clinging to me as if I’ll disappear.
I lower her onto her bed and tuck the blankets around her. She’s so sensual and precious, and when our lips finally part, our foreheads remain touching.
“I need to talk to my family.” I brush the hair from her face.
“At five in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
Frankie often works early, and I need to raise the alarms before she heads to the hospital.
Dove’s eyes, glazed with sleep, darken with worry. And doubt.
“Hey.” I cup her face, my thumb roving her cheek. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. I swear to you, whatever this is between us, I’m in. You don’t have to trust the world. Just trust me. And sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nods, but her hand catches mine as I stand. She doesn’t grip, just holds, reminding me she exists.
I press a kiss to her knuckles and slip free. It’s not easy. But keeping her safe means staying proactive. So I force my ass out of the room, out of the guest house, and into the pre-dawn morning.
Tugging up my hood, I make my way through the trees. My boots squish against the soft earth still damp from last night’s rain. The house looms ahead, the massive stone monster that shouldn’t feel like home.