Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 21
AIDEN
Ilie awake with Ania in my arms, listening to her soft breathing. She feels so tiny and delicate in my arms. She feels like she needs so, so much protection. Weirdly, despite all the chaos, I feel far more peaceful than ever before. Maybe it’s the in-and-out of her breaths, like waves lapping on a shore.
However, the savage in me refuses to rest. My groin aches, and passion flares through me. I’ve been hard ever since I climbed into bed next to her. I’m flooded with passion, need, and emotion. It’s a hell of a mix. She murmurs in her sleep, snuggling closer to me.
At least she’s resting. That’s what I have to remember. No matter how difficult this is for me—resisting the urge to claim her over and over—this is what’s best for her. Plus, she hasn’t been to the bathroom since eating that food! That’s a win.
But my groin won’t stop pulsing. The lust won’t stop expanding. Fuck. I want her tight body so badly. She’s a virgin. Nobody else has ever touched her. She belongs to me, just me—nobody else.
No, no, what am I thinking? Dammit.
I try to sleep, letting my eyes fall closed, but the darkness of my eyelids is like a projector playing a movie. I see Ania dancing around a studio flooded with light. I hear her laughing as she spins, her athletic, gorgeous legs cutting shapes across the studio.
She murmurs again, her hand sliding under my shirt, tickling my bare skin. Sudden heat flares into me. My dick pushes against my underwear, precome making me sticky.
“Ania,” I whisper.
“Hmm,” she moans, her hand moving over my stomach, then down.
“You’re not awake.”
“I am,” she says in a sleepy voice.
“You’re not,” I say firmly, knowing she might not be so forward if she were really awake.
She slides her hand down toward my crotch. I shudder as she gets closer and closer, my manhood so hungry for her touch, my desire making me somehow thicker, somehow harder. My heart pounds, anticipating what comes next.
It takes everything I have to grab her wrist before she can slip under my beltline.
“Hmm,” she moans insistently. “Let me.”
“I want to … so badly, but not like this.”
“Like what?”
She starts shifting her body against mine, and her graceful movements make the hunger even more challenging to resist. I keep my hand on her wrist so she can’t stray down to my manhood, but that doesn’t stop me from noticing the way her breasts rub against me, her body moving one way then the other like she’s trying to dance me into the lust.
“Remember my fetish?”
“No?”
“I like it when women pretend to be asleep.”
She giggles in that intoxicating way of hers. “That’s pretty creepy.”
“Can you do it for me?”
“Okay … but only because you asked nicely.”
Just like last time, she begins to snore. I wait until I feel her hand go limp, and then I gently push it away. Even now, if I don’t, the temptation is there. So much precome leaks from my cock, wave after wave of it burning hotly out of me, making me want to roar with how wild she’s making me.
There’s no way I’m getting more than a few hours of sleep tonight, but at least I can be here for her.
After a while, she sits up and switches on the lamp. She looks down at me, her eyes wide. “Oh,” she murmurs.
I can tell she’s awake now, properly lucid. It’s not one thing specifically, but her general demeanor.
“What?” I ask.
“I had a dream …”
I sit up, too. Her tone is like it was when she was sleepwalking, but she’s not now, is she? There’s no damn way.
“What sort of dream?” I growl, even though I’m pretty sure I know. I can read it in the redness of her cheeks, the way she purses her lips, the tension draping every part of her. The same tension burns in me.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Finally, I can’t stop myself. There’s only so much one man can take. Reaching over, I place my hand on her leg. She’s wearing PJ shorts and that tempting-as-fuck tank top that shows her pert, tight nipples. She gasps as I lean forward.
“I know what you were dreaming about,” I tell her. “You don’t have to be shy.”
“Me … shy?” She tries for a laugh, but it turns into a moan when I stroke further up her leg, feeling the heat of her skin, savoring the way her moan grows more intense the higher I get.
“You’re so hot,” I tell her. “Not just sexy. Not just beautiful. You’re burning up. Fuck, I bet your pussy’s soaked, too.”
She stares down at me wide-eyed as I smooth up her leg, then push my hand into her shorts from the bottom, reaching up and gently touching her. I can feel her through her underwear, and I was right. She’s wet. She’s hot. She’s on fire.