Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Pushing those memories to the back of her mind, she looked at Boyan as the kettle began to whistle. She saw his jaw clench and seconds later, he stood, leaving her alone. He wasn’t happy.
Lifting her hand up, she placed it on her thighs and stared at it. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had cut her palm. She felt the glass slide in, and she had even seen Boyan remove it from her hand. The pain hadn’t been too bad. Yes, at first it had stung, but as quickly as it came, it had also faded as if there was nothing there. There was no scar. Nothing. It was like falling on broken glass hadn’t happened.
She clenched her hand into a tight fist. What was she going to do? Removing the bandage from her other hand, the gauze had a little blood on it as well, and once again her hand was free and clear. This made no sense to her. Over the years, she’d done a lot of damage to her body. Not intentionally. A few accidents here and there.
The one incident she had never told anyone about happened a year ago, not long after her parents had died. She’d been so consumed with grief she hadn’t seen the car coming toward her until it was too late. The driver had been going way too fast, and had hit her. No one was around to see, and whoever hit her and sent her crashing to the pavement hadn’t stuck around. They had vanished, speeding off into the night.
Agatha had a broken leg. She also had several broken fingers, and there, at the side of the road, mind numb, she had listened to something soft and soothing.
Just put yourself back together.
So she had. She’d snapped her fingers back into place, twisted her thigh, and used her belt to hold it together. Like some kind of zombie parody, or at least she felt like it had been, she’d gotten to her feet, brushed off the aches, and then made her way to her apartment. No one had stopped her.
It had been dark, but when she arrived at her apartment, the pain in her leg had been nothing short of a small itch. When she stared at her reflection in the bathroom, her face was clear, and she watched as the bruise faded to nothing. She had landed on the pavement, she knew this. She knew her face must have looked a state because it had been hurt, but during the walk home, she healed.
By morning, her leg had been fine. Her hand was more than okay.
She’d lain in bed and known that she couldn’t stay in the city. That something wasn’t quite right about her, so she’d packed up and started to travel. All she had was her backpack, which contained her clothes. That was all. She didn’t own a car as they frightened her. Whenever her parents went traveling in a car, she often had to wear a crash helmet as she feared being crushed.
In the past year, she’d visited many towns and explored cities, and none of them had made her feel like this town did.
Boyan returned to the sitting room, carrying two pots in his hands.
“Here,” he said, holding one out to her.
She took the pot. He’d also brought her a fork and her stomach chose that moment to growl. Thanking him, she shoved the fork into the noodles, spun it around, and then lifted it up and took a bite, slurping them up as she did so. They tasted so good. Her mouth watered for a second bite. Noodles in a pot, there was no way anyone could go wrong.
“Both of your hands are healed?”
“Yes.”
She wanted to tell him about that incident a year ago, but she didn’t want to freak him out. Putting the pot to her lips, she drank up some of the broth.
Within minutes they finished their food and Agatha turned to look at him. “Have you lived here all your life?” she asked.
“Long enough.” He reached out and smoothed a curl behind her ear.
Agatha stared into his eyes, wanting to ask him so many questions but knowing he didn’t trust her yet. They didn’t know enough about each other.
Mount him.
It was such an odd thought, but before she could stop herself, she started to straddle his waist. Her hands went to his shoulders and she stared into his eyes. He gripped her waist.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
Boyan smiled. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. I’ve got a beautiful woman straddling my dick. There’s no reason to be sorry about this.” He gripped her waist and pulled her down.
She felt the hardness of his cock as he rubbed against her. Tilting her head back, she couldn’t help but moan. He felt so good.