Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Fields of verdant green stretch from one end of Screaming Woods to the other, a canopy of autumn foliage overhead rustling in the wind. I experience each color as if the sun were a giant ball in the sky. But I don't look at Dahlia, not yet.
When I see her with my sight at its strongest—truly see her—I don't want it to be a quick glance. I want to consume her slowly. That's how art should be appreciated, is it not? Slowly, with careful consideration.
"I can't believe you play air guitar." A burble of laughter escapes her lips, slightly nervous. She isn't used to giving up control of her senses or of herself. I doubt she's ever given this much control to a man like me…followed a literal waking nightmare willingly into the dark.
Why is she following me? Why does she allow me to put my hands on her?
She's beauty and grace, everything bright and shining in this world. And I'm the thing they keep locked in a mansion in the heart of the woods. The thing that wants to fuck her until she's screaming the roof down around us. I am a monster, even if she doesn't see me that way. I would kill for her, burn this world to ash for her.
And still, she follows me with her hand in mine. Willingly.
Would she follow so willingly if she knew how badly I ache to stalk her through the darkness like a predator chasing down his prey?
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Beauty," I growl, my voice dark and dangerous…darker than I intended.
"Yeah?" The smile in her voice lets me know I don't frighten her. I'm not sure anything frightens this woman. "I know more than you think I do, Draven Woodburn. For instance." She pauses dramatically. "I know you hide alcohol from your mother even though you're plenty old enough to drink. I also know that you spend far too much time alone and that you aren't nearly as scary as you think."
"Ma doesn't like alcohol," I grumble in protest. "And I like being alone."
"Liar," she says softly. "You pretend you're a grumpy beast, but you're really just a big teddy bear, aren't you?"
"No."
"I think you are."
"A teddy bear wouldn't want to bend you over and fuck you until you're screaming for mercy."
"Oh. Well, then," she mutters and then coughs delicately.
We push through an orderly row of rosebushes and step out into a clearing on the opposite side. I stomp forward a few feet and then release her, trying to get my pounding heart under control. I shouldn't have said that, but it's the truth. I want her every fucking moment of the day. It's almost torture at this point.
"Did you mean that?" she asks quietly from behind me.
Even though I should apologize for saying it, I can't lie to her. I won't lie to her.
"Yes."
"That doesn't make you a monster, Draven. It makes you a man." Her feet make soft sounds in the grass as she pads toward me. "You're allowed to…want the things you want. You're allowed to want me." She steps up behind me, placing her hand on my back. "I feel the same way about you."
"Dahlia," I groan, shuddering in response to her touch…to her words. My cock grows heavy in my pants, my balls aching for release. I don't just want her once or for now. I want her forever. "Beauty."
"Look at me, Draven," she whispers. "That is why you brought me out here, isn't it? So you could see me?"
"Yes," I snarl. "Out here beneath the night sky, my vision is strongest. Inside, I'm forced to look at you through a film, and it isn't enough. I see you, but not in the way I want. I'm losing my mind, not knowing the exact shade you blush or every feature of your face. When the darkness closes around me again, I want it to be your image that hangs in my mind."
"Then turn around."
I turn slowly, half afraid she'll vanish before my eyes if I move too quickly. I've been waiting for this moment all week. Now that it's finally here, I'm afraid to breathe too deeply lest I spoil it. She's a vision in the dark, more vividly real than the trees around us or the grass beneath my feet. Her hair is burnished copper, her eyes fathomless blue.
There's no way my artists could have gotten her right when I had her so wrong. She doesn't blush pink, but red. Almost imperceptible freckles run across the bridge of her nose. Her lips are plump and soft. Her skin so fair it's nearly translucent. Good God. How did an angel end up in my forest, living with an unruly beast like me?
I have a sneaking suspicion that this is why Ma brought her here. This is what she meant when she muttered a quick I told you so back in the gym. She was a little too thrilled to catch us dancing in the gym tonight. Ma is wily; I'll give her that.