Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
MV: The second thing is I’ve discovered who our darling little kidnapping victim is.
I back into the shadow of a statue and hold my breath as the dots bounce. Mrs. Verne has always been one for drama, but this is excruciating.
Me: Get to it, woman!
MV: Sorry, my fingers slipped. They’re all buttery from eating popcorn.
I don’t want an explanation. I want a name. The dots bounce. And bounce. I can almost see her grinning, torturing me as she drinks her gin and chomps on popcorn.
Me: Mrs. Verne!
MV: Rutherford. As in the notorious Rutherford crime family. Fancy on the outside, rotten on the inside. Run by Howard Rutherford. Son Henry. Daughter Millicent, aka Milly. Henry has constant security detail and is anointed as the second coming of Howard, more or less. Milly is an afterthought, likely to be married off as a bargaining chip within the next few years.
I groan. This is bad news. Her father isn’t the sort of man who’d take kindly to me keeping his daughter. Hell, I took her out of the country.
MV: You’re fucked, my dear. What are you going to do?
I already know the answer to that. I knew before she told me Milly’s last name. These last few days with Milly have transformed me, giving me hope for a future that I could only dream about. But she’s made it a reality.
What I’m going to do is this: keep Milly. And not just for right now. Milly and I are forever.
A flashlight bounces around about 50 yards away, a night guard bumbling around the grounds. I shrink into the shadows and steal back to my hotel room.
When I enter, Milly’s still asleep with Scarab cuddled up beside her.
Milly Rutherford. The daughter of a ruthless man who’ll stop at nothing to get her back.
Stripping off my clothes, I slide into bed next to her. She turns and snuggles against my chest, her warm breaths tickling along my skin.
I know her secret now. It’s only fair she knows mine. “I’m a professional thief,” I whisper. “Tomorrow night, I’m going to steal a vase from the Louvre, then you and I are going to head back home. Once I get my client handled and the Brotherhood off my back, I’m going to marry you, Milly. And then your last name won’t matter at all, because it’ll be our last name. You and me. Forever.”
14
Milly
“Milly.” Mateo lets out a groan into my ear. My eyes flutter open.
I was sure I was dreaming–or maybe I was but it started to blur with reality. Mateo is spooning me from behind; we’re both naked. His cock is pressed between my thighs, gliding in and out of my folds as I shift back and forth, dragging it across my clit. In my dream he’s been inside of me, but this works too. Mateo grips my hip, keeping me from moving.
“No,” I huff, fighting against him. I’m so close already.
I remember him waking me in the middle of the night. His mouth was all over me. I’d ended up sitting on his face and bending over so I could take him into my mouth too. I had read about it in one of my books, and Mateo was more than happy to recreate it with me at my suggestion.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
“That’s the point.”
“You okay with me coming on your pussy?”
I whimper my answer, and he lets go, giving me what I want.
He always does. I grind against him, finding my release. He’s quick to follow along with me. I love how he groans my name when he comes. His release sprays all over my thighs and sex.
“It’s like you’ve marked me.” I turn in his arms, stealing myself a kiss. When I do, his cock slips down some and presses inside of me.
“Fuck, Milly.”
“What?” I wiggle, causing him to slip in a bit more. We both freeze when the head of his cock presses up against my virginity. “You know it’s going to be yours anyway.”
“I swear you’re going to be the death of me.” He claims my mouth in a kiss but pulls himself back out.
“Hey,” I pout.
“We have plans. There is more of Paris to see.”
“But–”
“Don’t tempt me. As you said, it's mine, and I’m not taking you until you trust me.”
“I trust you,” I protest as he gets out of bed in all of his naked glory.
If the man wasn’t always turned on around me, I might be more self-conscious. He doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him. With how he is always gripping my hips, I think he’s actually into the fact that I’m on the curvy side. He seems to like having something to hold on to. There is also the fact that he’s always feeding me. I don’t think he’d be doing that if he doesn't like what he sees.