Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
But all I saw was resolution, and perhaps a hint of fear.
Good. You should be afraid.
“Remember, Boris.” I closed the small space between us and placed my hand on his shoulder. “There is your mahogany casket to think about. I bought it for you with the purpose of filling it. Sometimes I dream of your body being inside. Your mother weeping. Her tears spilling onto the polished wood. And then I smile and go to sleep.”
He swallowed hard.
I held his gaze for a few more seconds, letting the silence stretch between us and allowing the weight of my violence to press down on him too.
Then, I spoke, “Boris, I allowed you to live due to Emily and Lunita, but my patience. . .it is a very small, thin line. Cross it, and the foot that hovered over the line, will be the foot that your mother finds at her doorstep.”
Boris’s bottom lip quivered.
Lunita says one for one. She will also learn that she cannot tame me either.
I left Boris there.
The things I do for my mouse.
Frowning, I walked over to the other side of our bed.
This new arrangement was unconventional, to say the least. A bedroom full of men while we slept was far from ideal, but then again, nothing else would keep Emily happy about staying with me tonight.
And I would not let her sleep away from me.
Plus, this was Emily, my mouse, and for her, I would defy any norm, break any rule. . .have a bunch of fucking idiots stand over me as we slept. . .
Gritting my teeth, I glanced at the other men stationed discreetly by the window.
It will be fine, even if Lunita appears. It will all be fine.
Slowly, I climbed into the bed, careful not to wake her up.
The mattress dipped under my weight.
I lay down on my back and stared up at the ceiling. My body ached from the fighting. The frown remained etched on my face as the events of the evening replayed in my mind.
Questions without answers danced at the edges of my consciousness.
When will the sicarios make their move? How fast will we destroy our enemies?
I turned my head to look at Emily and watched her sleep.
An aching tenderness filled my chest.
You have me crazy in love with you, mysh. How will I focus on this war, with your sweet milk dripping from those sexy nipples?
My cock jerked in my pants, and my heart warmed.
This love for my mouse, it consumed me. It drove every deadly decision, every violent action. She was my heart, my soul, the very air I breathed.
I knew the dangers of what we were doing tonight—with her sleeping with me—so many risks.
Lunita was a force of nature—unpredictable and wild.
But Emily, she was the other half of my soul.
What happens, if Lunita comes?
A cold shiver hit me, yet my heart ached for Lunita too.
She’s hurting over Maxwell. I know it. She may come, and it won’t be a peaceful visit.
My gut twisted.
How will I sooth her?
I gritted my teeth.
No matter what darkness the night brought, no matter what actions Lunita chose to take, I would be there.
I would face it head-on, for Emily, always for her.
More and more, I was learning that this was the true meaning of love.
Love was not the pleasure of Emily’s body—the wetness of her pussy.
Love was not enjoying the beauty of her face or the fullness of her breasts.
Love was helping her fight the demons she could not.
Love was trust and commitment.
It was acceptance.
It was helping her hold the line against the encroaching darkness, and never, ever letting go.
And I love you with all my heart, mysh.
I turned off the lamp next to me, plunging the room into a soft, comforting darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moonlight seeping in from the balcony.
And then, I pulled Emily gently into my arms.
Mysh. . .
She sighed softly in her sleep.
What are you dreaming about? Are you at least at peace?
Warmth entered my heart.
I wrapped my arms tighter around her, and she stirred lightly and nestled closer to me. Her soft breath fanned against my skin.
I buried my face into her hair. Those braids pressed smooth along my cheeks. Whether my men could see me in the moonlight or not, it did not matter.
Loudly, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of her hair.
I like this new shampoo, mysh.
It was a blend of wildflowers and honey. The fragrance washed over my senses like a soothing balm.
All will be fine.
The presence of Boris, Wassily, and the others were now only shadows in the room.
Bizarre, yet necessary.
Minutes passed, and I held Emily, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against my arms.
My thoughts drifted to Maxwell again, lying in a hospital bed, caught between life and death. The weight of his condition, the uncertainty of his future, pressed heavily on me too.