Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Exposing every inch of that creamy skin for my wolfish mouth.
Her tits.
Her throat.
Her tight little pussy.
Fuck!
When I inhale, I’m snarling, almost inhuman.
This is what leading with my dick does.
I kissed her once and now she’s an unhealthy obsession.
I knew this dress show would pulverize my mind.
The door opens and the gaggle of women exit first, stampeding out with dresses hanging from their hands, offering me smiles and a few giggles as they explain they’ve left Hattie with the dress she’s wearing, since I liked it so much.
“Not to worry!” one of them says. “It’s a stunner, truly one of a kind. Amazing choice.”
I wish I could give a fuck about the dress itself.
Or the only thing that should really matter—Hattie likes it.
Not just because I’m ready to offer up my soul to see it fall off her.
The moment they’re gone, I head into the bedroom.
Hattie stands still in the dress, one hand on her stomach, frowning at her reflection in the full-length mirror.
The silky back is undone so she can step out of it without assistance, and I can see her smooth skin.
Also, the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra.
My imagination spits fire.
Leaning against the doorway, I try to calm down without leaving teeth marks in my wrist like the carnivorous fucknut I am.
Pages doesn’t want me to push her up against the wall and tear that dress off.
No matter how much I might want to.
My cock jerks at the thought and I inhale sharply.
Across the room, Hattie braces both hands on the flare of her hips and pushes.
She frowns, biting her lip as she runs her free hand down her bare arm, pinching her skin between her fingers.
She shakes her head.
Thoughts of shredding her clothes fade as I scowl. “What are you doing?”
She shrieks, leaps a foot in the air, and throws me a shocked glance.
“Holy shit. Do you ever knock? You shouldn’t be in here!”
“Didn’t we establish this isn’t a traditional marriage?” I step forward, unable to help myself.
My fingers itch to touch the dip at the small of her back, just to see if it’s just as soft as it looks.
“You shouldn’t be here, though. I’m not decent.”
“What were you doing?” I ask again, stopping behind her. “From where I was standing, it looked like you didn’t like what you saw in the mirror.”
“It’s not that, it’s just… the dress is insane.” The material is too thick for her to pinch her stomach through it, but it looks like she wants to. “I’m worried it’s a little revealing. That it doesn’t hide enough. Not like the first dress but—”
“Pages. Hattie.” I force my voice to gentle on her name, even though I want her to see all the dark things roaming my mind.
I’m half a second away from losing my sanity.
But that’s the last thing she needs right now.
“I don’t want it to hide anything,” I say. “I didn’t pick this dress because it hides shit. I like it because it shows you off.”
“But my stomach isn’t flat!” Her voice strains high. “And look how big my hips are! Ugh, my skin isn’t even smooth.” She takes my hand and draws it along the lush curve of her hip and down her thigh. “Feel that? That’s years of lobster tacos catching up with me. You can see everything, Ethan.”
Fuck me.
Here I am, staring at my hand on her hip.
“And see that? Bingo wings. And these stupid muffin tops around my boobs?”
Enough.
I swing her around to face me in one quick movement, my hand still on her hip and the other resting on her back.
Dangerously smooth.
Painfully warm.
Silk under my fingers.
“Woman, shut it. You are perfect and I want to marry you, not your fucking mother,” I whisper. I’m done being gentle.
I’m growling, furious that this insufferable girl has so many insecurities about her looks when she’s stunning.
What did her mom’s nagging do to her?
How can she dwell on a little extra cushion so much?
Doesn’t she understand it makes any sane man want to fuck her into next year?
“Ethan—”
“Did I say you could talk yet? Do you want to know what I see?” I jerk her closer so her body goes flush against mine. All the voices in my head telling me to stop are missing. “I see a gorgeous woman I can’t forget. She has curves for miles, roads to filthy fantasies every man dreams of.”
The way she gasps makes me think I’ve gone too far.
But when her eyes meet mine, they’re molten.
I don’t think, I just keep going.
“She has lethal hips and breasts to die for. Everything I’ve been dying to touch ever since I saw you again for this ridiculous agreement. You, Hattie, are Grade A jerk material. And I don’t want to hear you fretting about your weight or any of your mother’s bullshit as long as we’re together.”