Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I don’t know how to let her go, how to go back to a life that seems unbearably hollow. I did it before she came along because I didn’t know better, but I can’t do it now. Not when I’ve had these two weeks.
My mind churns, grasping for a way out, a way to make us a family, not just a secret. Could I leave Sara? Take Jason, start over with Amelia? The thought is reckless, a stupid fantasy that sparks and fades, because I have a prenup that doesn’t allow me to simply take Jason and start over with someone else, especially not the woman that Sara invited into her house because she thought she was my half-sister. I know Sara well, and she will be a tiger if scorned. Anyway, Sara’s not the right mate for me, but she’s his mother, and I can’t rip him apart from her. It would break his heart.
“Why does it have to end?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
My lips brush her neck, soft, lingering, and she stirs again, her body shifting closer, instinctive, like she feels me even in sleep. My hand tightens on her hip, possessive, and I press myself against her, my cock hard and throbbing, the need to be inside her overwhelming, a final goodbye that I can’t resist.
I nudge her thighs apart, and my fingers graze her core, finding her wet, warm, and ready. A low groan escapes me, the sound rough in the still dawn light. She moans sleepily, and her eyes flutter open, gorgeous and hazy.
“Max,” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep, with love.
Hearing her say my name breaks me, it’s like I’m her everything. Her hand reaches back, tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, and I kiss her deeply, my tongue tracing hers, tasting the sweetness of her.
“I need you,” I rasp against her lips, my voice cracking. And it’s no lie. I need to be one with her again. Perhaps for the last time.
She nods, her eyes glistening, tears already pooling, mirroring the ache in my chest.
I slide into her, slow and deliberate, the stretch of her around me a sweet, perfect torture. She exhales, a soft, breathy sound, and her body arches back and presses into me. I thrust deeper, gentle, savoring every inch, every pulse. Her warmth envelops me, tight, wet, and I groan, low, my lips on her neck, sucking softly, tasting her pulse.
“I love you,” I growl, my hand sliding up her stomach, cupping her breast, thumb brushing her hard nipple.
She doesn’t say I love you back, but she makes a choking sound, her hand gripping mine, nails digging in, pulling us together.
We move slowly. It’s sweet, but each thrust feels like a goodbye. Her hips rock back, meeting me, her breaths shallow, ragged, and I feel her tightening, her body trembling with every slide of my cock.
“You feel so good,” I whisper, lips grazing her ear, my voice thick with love, with grief. “So fucking perfect.”
She turns her head, her lips finding mine, kissing me deep, swallowing my groans, our breaths mingling, hot and uneven. Tears slip down her cheeks, wet against my skin, and I taste them, salty, raw.
“Don’t cry, my love,” I rasp, even as my own eyes burn. Tears spill down my face and splash onto her skin as I thrust deeper.
“Please, Max… don’t cry. Everything will be fine,” she sobs, voice breaking, her hand clutching my arm.
My hand slides down, fingers finding her clit, stroking, matching our rhythm, and she shudders, her cry rising, sweet, desperate, a melody that fills the room. I’m lost in her, in the way she suffers, the way she loves me, and I want to stay here, in this bed, in this moment, forever.
“I’ll always love you,” I murmur, voice cracked, my forehead pressed to hers, our breaths shared, ragged. “Till the day I die.”
Her eyes meet mine. They are brimming over with tears, with love. She nods, unable to speak, her body trembling as a surprised look comes into her face. Her mouth opens in an astonished gasp as she forgets her pain and gives over to pleasure.
She climaxes.
Her tightness pulses around me, a wave that pulls me under. I follow, a low groan tearing from my throat, my release flooding her, warm, binding us in this final, shattering moment. We hold each other, panting, tears streaming, her face buried in my neck, my arms fierce around her, unwilling to let go.
But the light brightens, cruel and relentless, and I know I have to move. The staff will be back soon, and I can’t be here, caught in her bed. Her arms fall away. She looks at me with dead eyes. I kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her mouth, soft and lingering, and then I slide out of her. The loss of her warmth is a physical ache.