Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Unable to stop myself, I lean over and do what I wanted to do last night. Kiss his scar. Place soft kisses on it, on those words that give him trouble. Those words that hurt him and make him angry. I also kiss my name. It’s surreal that he did that. That he tattooed my name on his skin, not once but so many times that it’ll take me some time to count. I know why he did it, though. It’s because like all these other words, I know my name hurts him too. I hurt him, being obsessed with me hurts him. It’s torture and agony, wanting me. It’s torture and agony for me, too, wanting him back. It all hurts and it all feels good and I never ever want it to stop.
I’ve been so engrossed in loving him that I totally missed the fact that his body isn’t relaxed anymore. His abs are flexing with every kiss I give him, and his thighs are taut now. Oh, and the other part of his body is totally awake too. But before I can check it out again, he threads his fingers through my hair before fisting them and pulling my head back. My eyes clash with his green ones. They’re half sleepy but half alert, meaning he’s been awake for at least a few minutes.
Before I can say anything, he rumbles, “You still sore?”
And my heart blooms while my cheeks blush because I know what he’s asking in his sleep-roughened voice. “No.”
He doesn’t relax, though; if anything a light frown emerges between his brows. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Took you hard last night.”
My blush intensifies. “Not that hard.”
“Hard enough to make you bleed.”
“It was only a little blood.”
“Cleaned you up with my mouth, darlin’. I know how much blood there was, and it wasn’t a little.”
“I—”
“And then kept wakin’ you up with my mouth.” I press my thighs together as he continues, “It wasn’t my cock but fucked you enough times with my tongue that I know your tight little cunt got sore by the end of it. So again, you sure you’re okay?”
I look into his eyes for a few seconds as my body grows heated. Then, “Yes, I promise.”
Still, he searches my face until he’s satisfied. Only then does his body relax again and his grip in my hair loosen. Making me think he was really worried about this, about me, even in his sleep. And for the millionth time, what was I thinking when I wanted to keep myself safe from him? Seriously. What. An. Idiot.
Biting my lip, I say, “Hi.”
Now that he’s relaxed, he moves his eyes and takes me in. First my face, so close to him, almost touching his thigh, and then my body. Leaned over him on my hands and knees. I give myself a couple of seconds to feel embarrassed about this. I’m naked and I’m crouched over him like a slut. I’ve never been naked in front of anyone, let alone in an obscene position like this. But there’s no shame. Like there was none last night. For some reason, it doesn’t even enter my mind. It’s a simple fact of me being his, and him being mine.
When he’s done with his perusal, he comes back up, fully alert. “Hey.”
His low voice makes me squeeze my thighs again. But my gasp is about something else. “This is the first time you’ve said that to me. Hey.” His lips twitch and my heart flip-flops in my chest. “I also realize just now that bar is so low for me to be happy and excited about things. But whatever, I am happy.”
He watches me for a few seconds with heavy-lidded eyes. “You always talk this much first thing in the mornin’?”
I don’t remind him that he was the one asking all the questions before this and doing all the talking; I simply prop my chin on my hand and smile. “More.”
His lips twitch again.
My smile stays in place. “Did you sleep well?”
This time, his lip twitch is accompanied by a hum, telling me that yes, he did sleep well.
My heart blooms bigger in my chest and so does my smile. It’s because I sang for him last night. It wasn’t preplanned; it was just something that happened when he took me in his arms after we were done. Fucking me with his big cock I mean, not the other times when he woke me up with his mouth. I was too blissed out after those times to do anything but go right back to sleep. But after we had sex and he cleaned me up, he rolled me to my side and threw his arm over my waist, settling my back against his wide chest and tucking my ass into his hard lap. He put his face in my hair then and breathed like he was the most relaxed he’d ever been in his life. And it just came to me. To sing for him, softly and quietly. I knew he liked it from the way he flexed his grip around me, tucking me further into himself. Before his body went all heavy and hot, almost limp from my voice. And maybe the bar is set too low for me because I was so happy, I could’ve wept. But I didn’t because I had to sing. So I kept doing that until I fell asleep and he did too, I think. And because giving him something soft and fragile to hold on to when all he’s had are hard things is a cause for celebration.