Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I hit him with a hard glare. "What do you think I mean? She's mine. My prize. My… Christ." I rake a hand through my hair, tugging gently. "My captive. Mine to have."
"Ah," he finally says after a moment, amusement glinting in the depths of his eyes. "I see."
Does he? Can he?
I'm not so sure. Life is a joke to Samson. No responsibilities, no obligations. He fucks who he wants to fuck and moves along. It means nothing to him.
This isn't like that. Thalia means something. At this point, I'm pretty sure she means everything. And I'm fucking worried that the darkness clawing at me is too much. I'm not a gentle man. I haven't been gentle with her. I've been demanding and crude, taking what I want. Saying what I want. Giving her every single part of me.
And God help me, I don't want to stop.
But I'm betrothed to another woman, for God's sake. I have no intention of following through on that marriage. But the contract still exists. Until it's dissolved, I can't give Thalia everything she deserves. I can't marry her.
Do I let myself keep falling deeper under her spell knowing that? Do I let her have all of me—every dark, jagged piece—when I can't give her my name? Or am I a fucking monster for taking what I want knowing that I'm still bound by my father's machinations?
"You aren't wed yet," Samson says quietly. "If you want the girl, take her, Troy. Maybe she's there for a reason. Maybe she's the clarity you were seeking."
His words aren't the absolution or condemnation I thought I needed. But they steady me, grounding me in reality and sending fire coursing through my veins.
He's right. She is there for a reason. I feel it in my fucking soul.
This thing between Thalia and me isn't wrong, not to me. It's too fucking right.
The plans my father made for my future are his goddamn plans, not mine. Thalia is my plan. One way or another, she's my future.
***
By the time I make it back to the cabin, it's late afternoon. Thalia isn't in the main room. I shove the important shit into the fridge and drop the remainder of the groceries on the kitchen counter, eager to set eyes on my curvy little temptress.
I push open the door to the bedroom, my chest tight with a mix of anticipation and something darker, needier. The sight that greets me stills every frantic thought.
She's sprawled on the bed, her chest rising and falling in the quiet rhythm of sleep. The sheet has slipped, exposing one perfect breast. Her long blonde hair fans out like a golden halo against the pillow, her full lips slightly parted.
Memories of her sobbed confession flood back, stirring the beast within me. Did she mean it when she said she wishes I had woken her with my dick in her mouth?
I've been worried about pushing her too far…but what if I'm not pushing her far enough? She'd been so eager, so obedient, offering herself up without reservation. She wants to be pushed. She wants to be played with.
She likes the dark.
I strip silently, letting my clothes fall to the floor as I watch her sleep. My muscles tense as I move toward her, a predator closing in on his precious prey.
The mattress dips under my weight as I crawl onto the bed with her, pulling the sheet from her, but she doesn't stir. My eyes rake over her curvy body. It's quickly become my obsession, an ache that won't dull.
She's so fucking beautiful.
I position myself above her, my dick hard, throbbing with the urge to claim every inch of what's spread beneath me.
"Thalia," I breathe, reaching out to circle her nipple with my fingertip. I slide between her legs, pressing against her, feeling the slick heat of her pussy against my cock.
Her body responds even in her sleep, or perhaps it's feigned, a game that stokes the fire coursing through my veins.
A low moan whispers from her lips, and I know. She's awake, aware of what I'm doing to her, yet she keeps her eyes closed, allowing me this moment, surrendering to twisted desire coursing through me. Her trust is a heady thing. Her submission coaxes the beast closer to the surface.
I spread her pussy lips apart, pressing the head of my cock against her clit. And then I push her lips together around the sides of my dick. They're so wet, so warm.
"Good girl," I murmur, rocking against her, each movement designed to tease, to see just how still she can be for me. My lips find her neck, tasting the salt on her skin, moving lower to capture a nipple between my teeth, drawing out her pleasure as much as mine.
She shifts subtly beneath me, her body awakening fully to my touch. Yet still, she plays her part, the sleeping beauty lost in dreams while I take what I want from her delectable body.