Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Except with me.
And I want more, so much more of him, wild and hungry and full of demand.
I reach up, unbuttoning his shirt, or trying. My hands tremble with more adrenaline, the emotions of the day, the lack of food, the intense desire coursing through my body, working a number on me.
Tyler helps me, finishing a button off and then pulling his shirt over his head. My hands are all over him before it ever hits the ground, my mouth on his chest. He catches the hem of my skirt, dragging it up my legs, and I have one moment of realization before his hands cup my naked backside. His fingers search for the silk I’d normally wear, and I suck in a breath, anticipating his reaction. God, I didn’t warn him, I didn’t tell him about Oliver. And I do not think he will react well. This man knows what I wear under my work attire, and sure enough, he jerks backward, his hands cupping my face. “Where are your panties?” he demands.
“He didn’t touch me, Tyler. I promise—”
“Where are your panties?”
“He bound my hands and even fingers so I couldn’t get out of the room,” I say quickly, and deciding I’ve done this out of order, I add, “He had me take them off so I could go to the bathroom, but he turned his back. I only got out of the room because a maid heard me screaming. I swear, Tyler, he didn’t touch me. He didn’t look at me like that. He was offended I thought that he wanted to and I’d tell you, I swear. I wouldn’t be okay right now if he’d touched me.”
His palm settles warmly on my waist and his forehead touches mine. “I hate this happened to you. I hate I let this happen to you.”
My hand covers his hand. “You didn’t let it happen. Your father did this to us both, and I hate this happened to you.” I press on his chest, his heart thundering under my palm, telling me how affected he is right now. “They used me against you,” I say, tilting my chin up to meet his stare. “They made me a weapon.”
“They made me a weapon, and if they don’t know it, they will.”
A chill slides down my spine at the dangerous statement I fear more than I did Oliver. I can’t let him become his father. I won’t. “Tyler, I don’t want—”
“I do,” he says, “I want so fucking bad, I am coming out of my own skin.” He turns me around, and my hands catch on the island. He unzips my dress, between the two of us we pull it over my head, and soon I’m naked; everything is gone. And already his hands are back on my body, warm and possessive, and when he reaches around me and pinches my nipples, sensations slide through me and settle low in my belly. My sex clenches.
I want him inside me. I want him pressed close to me.
He rotates me, his piercing eyes raking over my naked body, one palm scooping my backside, molding me to him, possessiveness etched on his face. Tyler owns me, and it’s terrifying sometimes how much I love him, because I always think he’s one moment from talking himself into being bad for me. I think he hates himself. I think his father made him that way.
He kisses my neck, his hands and mouth exploring my body, and when my fingers dive into his hair, there is a spike of urgency between us. “I need to be inside you, Bella,” he says against my mouth, his breath hot, my body hotter.
“Yes, please,” I whisper, my voice all rasp and desire, and we’re so caught up in the storm of emotions raining down on us, that nothing exists but my need to feel him buried deep inside me.
We both reach for his pants and between the both of us, his zipper is down now, and his erection juts forward, thickly veined, my hand wrapping around it. He groans but doesn’t allow me to do any of the many things I’d like to do to him right now.
There is a frenzied need between us, and my breast is in his hand, my head tilted back, his lips on my neck, on my nipple, sucking deeply. And then his arm is around my waist, anchoring me and lifting me. He presses inside me, driving deep. I’m against the island with his big perfect body snug with mine, and he leans in, inhaling me as he murmurs against my neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Bella.”
The words are roughened up with desire, spoken like a confession from someplace deep in his soul, and I have never been as turned on as I am in this moment. There is a fierceness about him as he drives into me, a hunger in the way his eyes ravish my breasts. In the way his lips touch mine and his tongue tastes me.