Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
“Hot. Wet. Messy. Wild. Intense. It should have left you wrung out and desperate for more.”
Chapter
Thirteen
Cade watched Fern’s slender throat move as she swallowed and he wondered how the fuck they’d managed to—in such a short time—get so very far down this rabbit hole.
“I’m sorry it was so terrible,” she apologized.
“You should stop doing that,” he told her through gritted teeth and she tilted her head in that appealing quizzical way she had.
“Doing what?”
“Apologizing for shit that’s not your fault.” As she had done just last night. He was about to say as much, when she spoke again.
“Wasn’t it my fault? I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Precisely,” he agreed, immediately distracted. “I, however, did know what I was doing. As such, I was the one who should have ensured that it was a better experience for you. For both of us. I’m sorry your first time was so shit.”
“Honestly?” she said, her tone hushed and confiding. “I didn’t know it was shit until you told me it was.”
Her confession startled another laugh out of him. She was so fucking unintentionally cute that he found himself constantly caught off guard by her.
“Fern, you didn’t have an orgasm. Surely that was your first clue?”
“I thought I did?” The words emerged on a high note, as if she wasn’t quite sure of it.
“You have had an orgasm before, right?” The question was out before he could think the better of it. He grimaced, not used to speaking without weighing every word carefully.
“Of course. Sort of. Maybe—?”
The qualifier sent his eyebrows soaring. A pretty pink blush stained her pale skin and she looked uncomfortable with the conversation, but after that, he couldn’t simply drop it. He needed specifics.
“Sort of? How do you sort of maybe have an orgasm?”
“I never had much privacy in boarding school. The other girls were very open about their sexuality and spoke frankly about such things. Some of them often experimented with each other. But I was—am— shy about my body and I was reticent to discuss sex, even with my best friend.
“While most of the staff at my school consisted of non-religious teachers, our sex education teacher was an ancient nun. Probably because the school wanted to discourage us from having premarital sex. Sister Mary Patrick wasn’t very forthcoming or approachable. She gave us the requisite sex education classes but her take home was always ‘yes this is how sex goes but you’re not to have anything to do with it until you’re married’.
“After finishing high school, I shared a room with one of the religious sisters on the staff, an older woman. She was very intimidating and stern. Self-exploration was even more difficult after that.”
Cade couldn’t quite wrap his head around that level of inexperience and naivety. He felt like a fucking asshole who had preyed on someone years younger than him in terms of sexual knowledge.
And now she was pregnant without even knowing what an orgasm felt like. The mere thought of it was appalling and tragic and a terrible waste.
He continued to stare at her bent head, and gradually became aware of the fact that his breathing had slowed down, while his heartbeat was hard and heavy in his chest. His flesh prickled, leaving the hair standing on end along his arms… and that wasn’t the only thing standing on end.
Shit.
His throat went dry as he considered his unwelcome erection.
Why was he turned on?
He liked women who could hold their own in bed, women who knew how to give decent blow jobs, who could stroke a cock without digging their nails into his sensitive flesh and yet…
The thought of being the one to wake her up and initiate that sweet little body in the joys of sex, was an irresistibly erotic one. She was a blank slate. And he would seduce her slowly this time.
Properly.
He imagined her astonishment when he made her come for the first time. He wouldn’t warn her. He’d let it sneak up on her, wash over her, steal her breath, her reasoning, her sanity…
Christ.
Cade was the one losing his sanity. He was mad to even allow his thoughts to stray in this direction. She wasn’t for him. Fucking her would complicate his life even further. Would encourage her to form attachments where she shouldn’t. Possibly raise her expectations.
That wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to do his stint as her husband and move on with his life.
Yet here he sat, hard as a steel pipe, aching to show her what her body—their bodies together—was truly capable of.
He swallowed thickly, and folded his shaking hands into tight fists.
“Did you make that appointment?” he asked hoarsely, changing the subject to preserve his sanity. Fern blinked sleepily, looking confused by the abrupt change in topic.
“Not yet,” she said.
“Get it sorted, I’m going to take a shower. And then we’ll get you to the doctor.”