Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
I come again, harder this time, my legs shaking and trembling until they actually give out. Only his arm around my waist keeps me upright as he continues to thrust into my spasming body.
"That's it," he groans, his rhythm finally faltering. "Fuck, Savannah—"
He buries himself deep one last time and, then he pulls out. He spins me around, aims his cock at my face, and comes all over my mouth.
I lick it up like nothing has ever taste so good.
Then he drops to his knees beside me, hands on my face, wiping his come of my lips, and kisses me. He kisses me hard. Almost angry. "I love you," he says. "I love you so fucking much, Savannah. You know that, right? You know that. You have to know that. Whatever we do here, the sex. The dirty talk. That's all it is, just talk. You're not a fuck toy. You're not a whore. You're…"
But he stops.
Because I'm looking at him.
And I'm suddenly thinking… "What's happening here?"
"What do you mean?"
He knows what I mean. This sex. Oh, it was good. I want to keep going. I want him to fuck me all night long.
But it's… wrong. Not the anal. Not what we did.
Why we're doing it.
He's never wanted to take me in the ass before. Why tonight?
"What happened?" I ask him.
"What are you talking about?"
"Something happened. I liked the sex, Legion. But this was…"
"Incredible," he smiles.
"Yeah, but—"
"You want it again?"
"Stop changing the subject. What's going on?"
CHAPTER 6
I pull Savannah close, guilt washing through me like flood water. My hands shake as I wrap them around her body, pressing her against my chest where she can feel my heart hammering.
Why did I take her like that? Like I was trying to fuck my way through to something on the other side. Like this might be the last time.
Like I'm already dead or disappeared.
"What's wrong?" she asks again, softer now. Her palm presses against my chest, right over the ruined brand. "Legion, talk to me."
I can't. So I deflect.
"You remember that summer I got the dirt bike?"
She goes still in my arms. "What?"
"The dirt bike. When I was fifteen. You were thirteen."
"Well... yes. Of course I remember."
"You had that big fancy thoroughbred your mother bought you. You'd ride her out to Makoshika, and I'd take the bike. Meetin’ up at the trailheads."
Savannah pulls back enough to look at my face. Her eyes search mine, trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing, bringing up ancient history while her ass is still burning from what I just did to her.
"You took me to see the dinosaur fossils," she says slowly. "It was a hundred degrees. I got so sunburned my shoulders blistered."
"I gave you my shirt."
"You did." Her hand moves from my chest to my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "You wrapped it around my shoulders and made me wear your stupid baseball cap even though it was way too big for me."
I remember the way she looked—this tiny blonde thing drowning in my clothes, her nose pink from the sun. We hiked three miles into the badlands to see some formation she'd read about in a library book. Fossil beds, or some shit. I didn't care about dinosaurs. I cared about the way her eyes lit up when she talked about things that mattered to her.
"Best summer of my life," I tell her. It comes out rough.
"Mine too." She traces the line of my jaw. "Before everything got complicated."
Before I joined the club. Before she left for boarding school. Before Eleanor started paying me to sit in her studio while she photographed me like I was art instead of a person. Before prison, before Marcus, before I learned how to break things, instead of protect them.
"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it for more than just tonight. For all of it. For being too rough just now, for fucking her ass like I was trying to punish something—her, me, the world. "I shouldn't have—"
"Don't." She presses her fingers to my lips. "Don't apologize for that. I wanted it. You didn't hurt me. I'm not made of glass, Legion."
But she is. She's made of light, and air, and everything good I've ever touched, and I keep putting my filthy hands on her anyway.
"You're everything clean," I tell her. My voice cracks on the words. "Everything good. And I just keep—"
"Stop." She kisses me before I can finish the thought. Slow and deep, her mouth soft against mine. When she pulls back, her eyes are wet. "I'm not clean. I'm not good. I'm just... yours. That's all I've ever been."
I kiss her again because I can't fucking help myself. Pour everything I can't say into it—the goodbye I won't speak out loud, the thank you that doesn't go far enough, the love that's going to outlive both of us, and probably burn the world down in the process.