Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
He flipped us around, so I was pressed back against the tub wall, and then he surged like the water, filling me deep, pinning me, his eyes fierce, his muscles taut.
In that moment, he wasn’t cruel Ash.
Assassin.
Mean.
He was a god.
King.
Mine.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Mostly it is loss which teaches us the worth of things.” —Arthur Schopenhauer
Ash
It didn’t seem real. Having Annie actually in my arms—no arguing.
Quiet.
The light of the moon filtering past the thick black hotel curtains as I pulled her into my arms and then the sheets over both of us. I couldn’t stop staring at her, at how peaceful she looked.
Earlier tonight, she’d looked ready to raise hell with barely a scrap of gorgeous white dress wrapped around her body like a snack.
Now? Now she was naked against me, her skin pink from the bath, her lips swollen from the kisses.
I ran my hands through her short dark hair. “Be honest, you cut your hair because you wanted to kill my soul, right?”
She stilled, then looked up at me, her eyes flickering. “You hate it.”
I sighed and kissed her head. As far as she’d come with her confidence, I needed to remember that she still needed the words, the actions, needed me to tell her how beautiful she was. How mine she was. I was owned. As cliche as it sounded, she was what I needed without even knowing, so I gave her the gentled words as I pulled her against me. “I love everything about you; I just feel like this was a giant fuck you, Ash…”
Her laugh had me smiling as she leaned up and flicked my chest, her blue eyes sparkling. “It was.”
I gripped her fingers and kissed each one. “Then again, it backfired when I didn’t recognize you. Shit, I’m an idiot.” I fell back against the bed as she splayed halfway across me.
Her fingertips spread across my chest. “Say it again.”
I reached for her hand. “Hell no, my ego’s extremely fragile post-sex.”
She jerked her fingers away and punched me in the chest; I caught her hand and kissed her fingertips again, then grabbed the remote. “So, what will your poison be?”
“Anything torturous… you deserve it after putting me through that tonight. The way I see it, I should have full control of the remote.”
“And yet…” I pulled it back. “Who’s holding it?”
She batted her eyelashes at me. “Who’s holding you?”
“Damn it.” I sighed. “So what will it be?”
Her smile was conniving; my dick and I liked it because her eyes were hooded, her breaths came in short pants, and we remembered what that felt like, and I wanted her again. “Something that makes you want to jump out that window like It’s a Small World at Disneyland…”
“And I’m the devil,” I grumbled as she brought me back from my wicked fantasies. I wouldn’t trade it though. I loved it. Loved that we were talking, loved that I was holding her, that she knew me, saw me, not as the cruel playboy assassin, but just me. “So?”
“Die Hard?” she offered.
“Very funny.”
“No look.” She pointed at the TV. “It’s on, and I love Bruce Willis.”
“Are you trying to get laid again?” I pulled her until she was flush against me. “Because it’s working… honestly though, that may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She frowned up at me, her face makeup-free, clean, beautiful. “Die Hard?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not Bruce, you holding a gun, and I still get rock hard imagining you dressed up as a librarian.”
“I never dressed up as a librarian.” Her pretty eyes narrowed into a confused frown that had me wanting to reach up and kiss her.
I grinned mischievously. “We sure about that? Because my vision’s extremely clear,” I groaned. “I fucking loved it, daydreamed about pulling your hair about a million times.”
She gave me a shove. “Wow, imagine had I just grabbed my favorite ruler out of my bag and smacked you with it then bit into an apple…
“Fuck.” I flipped her onto her back, collapsed my body weight against her. “Only as long as you tell me to try to be quiet while I sink into you behind a stack of dusty books.”
She burst out laughing. Free. She was free. “Let me guess you’re going to shove them all off the desk.”
“There really isn’t any other move for that situation, Annie.” I gave a serious nod. “And I am a fucking professional.”
Her eyes heated. “Die Hard in the background… You… in my mouth.”
I completely froze, afraid I’d ruin the moment by being an ass again, and then I blurted, “Are you sure? It’s been a long night and—”
I allowed her to shove me to the side of the bed, and then she was ducking under the covers as I tried to mutter out. “I’m an idiot, just kidding, carry on, shit—”
“Finders Keepers.” Her lips moved against my cock.