Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Then one hand slides my T-shirt up my chest, exposing my breasts more fully to the cool night air before his fingers settle around my throat and start to squeeze.
“Your wish is my command.”
My head falls back to the pillow as he steals my air and really starts thrusting, hips grinding in that way that hits my clit while he fucks me deep and much rougher now.
Pleasure lights like sparking rockets behind my eyelids.
Goddamn.
I’ve missed you, love.
Domhnall wants to shower with me after the enthusiastic, rough sex that woke me. His eyes are still dark with that delicious hint of danger I love so much, his skin flushed from exertion.
“Let me join you,” he murmurs, voice still rough with desire despite how thoroughly I’ve exhausted him. His fingers brush my hip, leaving trails of fire across my skin.
“No,” I whisper back, pressing a kiss to his jawline, tasting salt and that unique flavor that’s purely him. “You should sleep. I’ll just wash off and be right back.”
I take longer than necessary in the shower, letting scalding water sluice over my body, washing away his delicious sticky cum. He’d been such a messy, messy boy tonight. I shiver remembering his grip on my hips, the way he’d growled in my ear before spilling himself deep inside me, then again an hour later when I’d pushed him past what he thought he could give.
The bathroom fills with steam, clouding the mirror and cocooning me in a private world of heat and falling water. I press my forehead against the cool tile, allowing myself one moment of weakness before reality crashes back.
I’ve been gone too long.
My face hardens as I peek back in the bedroom after my extended shower. Yep, he’s finally asleep. He came twice, and I suspect once before I even woke up, so I figured he’d be out like a light. His broad chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of deep sleep, one arm flung across the space where I should be. Something in my chest twists at the sight of him—vulnerable, trusting, completely unaware of the storm brewing around us.
I slide the door shut with excruciating care, then wipe off the fogged-up mirror with my towel, creating a clear circle in the condensation.
I stare hard at the face reflected back at me.
“What the fuck did you do to me, bitch?” I hiss at my reflection, though I’m not speaking to myself. I’ve been catching only fragmented glimpses through spotty memory, but now I relent and open a little space to let her out.
With her comes much clearer floods of memory, like a dam breaking in my mind. I see exactly what Anna did with that fucking hypnotist to try to get rid of me for good. The sessions, the techniques, the careful way she worked to erase me. To eradicate me like I’m some fucking cancer instead of the part of us that’s kept us alive all these years.
“What?” the face in the mirror says back, Anna’s softer expression briefly overtaking mine. “You would have done it if you’d thought of it first.”
“You whore.” I slap her—slap us—feeling a sharp sting across my cheek. Then wince at the pain.
“Why are you hitting yourself?” she asks in a childish voice, mocking me.
I slap her again, harder this time, ignoring the fresh burst of pain. My palm leaves an angry red imprint on our cheek.
“Oh, stop it,” she says, impatience creeping into her tone. “Punishing me doesn’t do anything but hurt you. Get over it. We’ve got to work together.”
I laugh without amusement, the sound harsh and brittle in the steamy bathroom. “Burn in hell, bitch.”
“We’re not alone in here,” she says suddenly, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “I met another alter.”
That stops me cold. “What?” I bite out, my fingers curling around the edge of the sink.
“You went away, and another alter came out. I think someone came to the house and tried to hurt us. She...” Anna’s face in the mirror blinks and looks down, a flicker of genuine fear crossing her features. “She—the new alter—killed them.”
I feel my eyebrows lift, genuine surprise replacing anger. “No shit?”
Anna glares back at me in the mirror, her expression both disgusted and frightened. “No shit. She calls herself Red, and apparently, she killed some guy and chopped him up into tiny pieces. She used Domhn’s power tools, for Christ’s sake. God knows what she did with the body.”
“Hopefully she’s smart enough to hide it where no one will find it,” I muse, mind already calculating probabilities and contingencies. “Was she sloppy?”
Anna breathes out in frustration, but shakes her head tightly. “No. The opposite. Cold and calculated.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Sounds like my kind of girl.”
“She’s a murderer,” Anna says, her voice trembling with righteous indignation.