Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Seychelle was shaking almost uncontrollably. Certain she couldn’t stand on her own, he eased her back against the wall and bent his head to her sore nipple, licking at it with exquisite tenderness. “I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you. You’re flying too high. Come back to me.” He kept his voice low, a velvet enticement, as he kissed his way back up her throat to her face to collect her tears. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”
“Don’t let go of me, Savage.” There was real fear in her voice. She circled her arms around his shoulders, linking her fingers behind his neck, shaking so hard he was afraid she might go to pieces against him.
“Angel, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you. Let me get you to a chair. I’ve got to take that plug out and wrap you up, then I’ll hold you close.” He kissed his way up her neck and behind her ear, talking softly to her, reassuring her with the sound of his voice, bringing her down gently.
With one hand, he reached around her and managed to find the plug nestled between her cheeks. “I’m going to pull this out, baby.” He had no idea where he’d tossed the remote, and the damn thing was still vibrating. He tugged. She shuddered in his arms, then gasped when her breasts slid over his chest, her nipples pressing tightly against him. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured over and over in reassurance.
Once he knew he had his legs under him, he shifted her in his arms, allowing his cock to slide out of her. The movement triggered a series of aftershocks to ripple through her body. She moaned, her mouth against him, teeth biting into his shoulder as he lifted her, cradling her against him.
Savage carried her to the wide chair in front of the large window overlooking the view of the ocean. Waves rushed toward the bluffs, a turbulent wall of dark blue water, pounding them. White spray rose into the night sky like diamond drops—or crystal tears. He had a warm throw on the back of the chair, and he wrapped it around both of them and settled into the chair, Seychelle on his lap, cuddling her protectively.
He smoothed his hand over her hair and rocked her gently until the storm of tears passed. All the while he dropped little kisses on top of her head and along her temples. For a long time, he kept his eyes closed, his heart aching. She was his angel, giving him a miracle he never thought he’d have. He’d come to terms with what he was and what he needed, but he hadn’t thought how he’d feel when he actually loved someone. Really loved them.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Seychelle,” he murmured. “I love you. Those words can’t even convey to you how much I feel for you. I know what gift you’re giving me, and I can only tell you how much I’ll always treasure you.” There was no real way to say what was in his heart. The ache that was there. The regret. The deep need that he knew would only grow.
He wasn’t a fucking poet, although he wrote in a secret journal for her, and he hoped someday he’d have the courage to give it to her. Maybe. Because she had such courage, and she deserved anything he could give her. Her sobs faded to soft little hiccups, and he caught up the bottle of water he’d put next to the chair earlier, in preparation.
“You need to hydrate, Seychelle. Drink just a little for me.” He coaxed her; he didn’t command her. He kept nuzzling her neck, alternating between kissing her soft skin and tasting with his tongue while her hair tumbled wildly around his face, the silken strands reminding him how fragile she was.
She took the bottle, her hand trembling. He sat her straighter on his lap and helped her, making certain not a drop spilled on her but that she drank quite a bit before he put the bottle back on the end table. He pushed her hair back so he could tip her face up to his.
“Look at me, baby. I need to know you’re back with me.” He kept possession of her chin, his thumb sliding along her cheek gently while his palm framed her jaw. Her bone structure felt delicate in his hand. “That’s it. Look right at me.” Her pupils were dilated, and she still looked a little dazed, but her eyelashes fluttered a few times and she focused on him.
“I’m okay, Savage. That was . . . intense. I didn’t expect it to be like that.” She laid her head back on his shoulder.
He bunched her hair in his fist. “We have to talk about it, Seychelle. Now, and again when you’ve rested. I need to know if at any time you were going to tell me to stop. You have to be honest with me.”