Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
In the end, I leave them open and take myself to bed, feeling quite sorry for myself.
Because if he is here, and if he plans to come to me, I want to see him. I want to scream at him. I have many questions to ask of him, and I will have answers.
If he doesn’t, my rooms will be more comfortable with the outside air moving freely in.
It is not easy to fall asleep, with my mind so full of conflicted thoughts and feelings. I find myself listening for any sign that someone is approaching. The only footsteps I hear are the occasional crossings of the guards outside my bedroom doors. They patrol more often in the early part of the night, when an audience is more likely to be up and about in the castle, though not so often that I could not slip out unnoticed.
There is a longer gap, signaling the later hours of the night, and that’s when my mind finally begins to drift.
I do what I can to help sleep along. I breathe evenly and do not try to rush it. I think of the stream near the pavilion and imagine following it at a slow, stately pace, taking time to notice the plants growing along the stream bed and the curves in the water.
I’m very close to sleep pulling me in—so close that I can hear the stream trickling in my dream—when someone moves on the balcony. With a deep inhale, I refuse to breathe until I hear it again.
Creak. My eyes close in a relief that I’ve never felt before. One of being found. One of being wanted.
He takes only a few soft steps, but my whole body becomes alert at once. My heart pounds and yet I stay as still as can be. Until he steps again and I can no longer play these games. After all, I am no little girl. I have a kingdom I will inherit. The bed dips as I sit up and prepare myself to turn to him.
“I have—” I start, but he covers my mouth with his broad hand, silencing me and stopping me from turning at the same time. I slightly struggle in his embrace and find his hard chest to my back. His hand hot on my skin and my pulse rages. I writhe slightly for him to unhand me but he doesn’t.
“Shh,” he attempts to hush me. The bastard!
I lift my hands to pry at his, but he does not seem to care. I realize too late that he is ignoring my attempts to struggle because he is trying to force a blindfold over my eyes. It’s only when the silk touches my skin, bringing back the memory that I still.
His strength floods me with heat. It gathers between my legs in a mortifying burst of desire. I should not want this, but I do—I want a man who is strong enough and confident enough to take me even when I pretend to want to free myself. My initial desires overwhelm me and for a moment I consider fighting, and then submitting, and then I question my sanity.
When the blindfold is tight around my eyes, he kisses me, stealing every thought away from me. His hands pin my wrists to my back and once he’s gathered both in one of his, he cups my chin. It’s a gentle hold of my chin, turning my face toward his, while my body is captive to him.
It is a hot, deep kiss. Does he taste the same as the first time he came? That first kiss was not nearly so deep or passionate, and I cannot remember. I cannot remember. I am too swept up in his touch. He is kissing me harder now, biting at my lip, careful not to let his teeth go beyond my mouth. The sensation is overpowering. My breathing staggers from his passion.
I twist in his arms so that he can kiss me deeper, and he releases my wrists so that I can cling to him in return. I whimper into his mouth. He does not reply, but I hear him start to make a sound, then stop himself.
I wish I could hear his voice. I wish I could have something to identify him by.
But then he is lowering me to the pillows, and I cannot think of anything but what he will do next.
My heart pounds against his and our beat is the same.
Just as he did the first time, he pushes my nightgown up above my breasts, but doesn’t take it all the way off. Somehow that is filthier than if he had stripped me. He lowers his mouth to one of my nipples and licks it, then teases it with his teeth, and I arch on the mattress. Heat envelopes my body. It is a much stronger sensation than I ever could have given myself, and when he repeats it on my other nipple, my thighs fly apart. I’m not even conscious of what I am asking for, but this man does not need for me to tell him.