Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
He groans but does as I say. I pull my shirt over my head, freeing my breasts, and my hand on his penis holds him there as I continue to my languid grind. His piercing rubs me perfectly as I reach the tip but don’t yet sink down on him. I cup my breast and squeeze my nipple, pulling it.
“It feels so good,” I whisper. “So, so good.” My head lolls back, and all I want to do is let him fill me, but I don’t want him to hold all the power.
He has to give a little to get a little.
And riding his cock like this still feels like heaven.
“Fuck it!” He growls. “This is going to cost you.”
Before I can even ask what he’s talking about, he leans up, and his mouth slams onto mine. My body freezes as our lips mold together, then his tongue slithers into my mouth, and he kisses me. I can taste myself, but what I can taste more is him.
All him.
And holy heck, Jake can kiss.
His tongue dances with mine as he pulls back, bites my lip, and does it all over again. I somehow manage to maintain consciousness instead of letting that kiss knock me out and reach down and glide him into me. His lips pause on mine as I do, and when I sink down on him fully, he seems to remember where we are and what we’re doing, then he kisses me again.
I’ve been kissed before.
Touched before.
Possibly even loved before.
Yet nothing, nothing compares to Jake.
And the thought scares the absolute shit out of me.
Chapter 29
Money makes my words spin, so does she
Jake
Her back is to me while she lies sleeping beside me. I reach for her and pull her into my chest.
With her warm body pressed against me, the last thing I want to do is move. But I know I have to. I can’t risk falling asleep next to her again, not after last time.
She is the only person in this world where it physically pains me to hurt her. It’s an ache that sits deep in my chest.
It reminds me of my mother—I hated her but loved her regardless.
She was like the women I buy.
It’s why I do what I do.
My father, a rich sociopath, left her after he found out she was pregnant with me, and she was no longer useful to him. She did what she could to survive, even if that meant letting the devil himself sleep in a place a child should feel safe—a home.
Letting Oriana think she is unsafe near me is not an option. The fact she can trust me enough to fall asleep next to me tells me so. I lift the blanket and pull it up over her as I get out of the bed. She makes a soft sound but doesn’t wake as I turn off the light and shut the door.
I go to my phone and find several missed calls from Maria. Calling her back, she immediately swears at me when she answers, followed by, “Your brother is down here at the hotel bar. Please come,” then hangs up. I dress and reach for my knife, tucking it into my pants before I head down there.
There is no love lost between my brother and me. I could easily slice that man’s throat, brother or not, and not lose one minute of sleep.
I don’t always choose violence. There are enough people who can do that for me. But if it comes down to it, I have no issue dealing with it myself.
Entering the bar area, Maria’s holding a glass as she sits next to Grayson. Grayson leans in and says something to her, she pushes him away, and he laughs. I stalk over to them, and they both turn to face me when I’m only a few feet away.
“You were escorted out. Clearly, you missed the exit sign,” I say to Grayson.
He holds up his drink. “I was escorted out of your little gathering, but this is a public bar that you do not own, brother.”
“We are hardly brothers. Blood means fuck all,” I tell him.
“This I know.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you, though? Because I still see you following me around like a bad smell.”
My brother chooses to ignore me and taps his fingers on the counter, indicating for another drink. He nods to Maria before he waves his hand at me. “And whatever he drinks,” he tells the bartender. The bartender looks at me, and I shake my head.
“The hunters won’t be impressed if I come back empty-handed. They may very well tell me to go straight back to your town. Do you think the men who protect you can really defend you against them?” he asks.
I don’t know the hunters, but their stories are hard to believe.