Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
How the hell did he draw this? He’s never seen me naked. Well, he’s seen my breasts but nothing lower than that.
There isn’t only one sketch. There are hundreds. I’m in different positions. Head thrown back. Fists clutching the sheets. Teeth biting my lip. Spine arching from the bed. But in all of them I’m naked and yes, aroused. I touch my body on paper and feel it on my skin, causing goosebumps to erupt. When did he make these? How long has he been making them? And why do I suddenly feel naked, as naked as I am on the paper?
I don’t register Abel’s closeness until his hand snakes around my waist and his sweet breath puffs into my ear. Good thing he’s here, because I was about to collapse. My legs are shaking like crazy.
“Fuck,” he mutters when he sees what I’m seeing, and drops his head on my shoulders.
“I… You’ve never seen me naked.”
He lifts his head and his jaw scrapes against the side of my face. “I know.”
I hiss at the sting. “So how did you…”
“I’ve got an active imagination.” His palm rubs circles around my stomach, as if calming the butterflies inside, taming them with his touch. “And I’ve touched you, felt your curves against my body. I can fill in the blanks.”
“How long?”
I hear him swallow. “Months.”
I imagine him sitting all alone in his bed, drawing pictures of me, hunting down videos online to fantasize about me, while the people our age are either out being in love or sleeping soundly, dreaming of it.
Maybe it’s the separation we’ve had to endure for so many unfair reasons, or maybe I’ve grown up now, but I’m not a little girl who wanted to play games anymore. Who was probably holding onto her virginity too tightly because she was never given a say in anything else in her life. And as a grown-up — a woman — I understand his needs so much better now. I understand myself better. Something inside me — this urge that’s always been there to please him grows roots, flourishes. It makes me both weak and strong.
I want to nurture him, soothe away his pain, clutch him to my body and never leave. I want to give him everything. I want to obey him because it gives me pleasure. I was designed that way. For him.
I grind my butt into his pelvis and arch my back. His lips skim over my cheek, the column of my throat.
“You’re hard.” I feel his dick through the layers of clothing: his jeans and my dress. But the heat of it is slowly burning through everything.
“Constantly,” he croaks.
His lonely tone arrows down to my heart, pierces my skin, and it’s painful. I don’t know if it’s as painful as his lust for me. But I hope to God that it is. I want to feel his pain because I never want him to feel anything by himself.
I put my hand over his arm that’s banded around my tummy and thread our fingers together. “I can… I can show you what I look like so you don’t have to imagine.”
Usually, I’m the one who’s losing all her breaths. I’m the one who goes still when her heart is beating as if it’s in a mad race. But this time, it’s him. He’s stopped breathing. I can almost feel his heart pounding on my spine where his chest is flush with me. I’ve stunned him.
It doesn’t last long though. With a jerk, he spins me around and pushes me against the desk. The edge of it bites into my backside and I grip his biceps to remain steady.
“What’d you just say?”
The papers rustle against my dress as I shift on my feet. “I-I said I can show you.”
He’s taking shaking breaths, searching my face. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? Because if you are, Pixie, it’s a cruel thing to do.”
Looking at him now, I understand why he moved away from me before, when we were kissing. He thought I’d deny him again. He thought I’d say no and thwart his advances and the poor guy was so sick of that.
Oh Abel.
I caress his cheek, looking into his beautiful brown eyes. “I promise I’m not kidding. I… want you to have me, and…”
“And what?”
I lower my eyes and now my heartbeats probably match his. “I don’t want you to lose me after I’m gone so… I’ll be your muse too.”
Silence. Pin-drop, epic silence.
Okay, so maybe I’ve said too much. Maybe I should’ve eased him into it. But the thing is, I don’t want easy. I hadn’t realized that until now. I hadn’t realized the intense hunger inside me. For him. To be his. In every way.
I hadn’t realized that I want him more than I can ever want anything in this world. In fact, I don’t even want the world, I only want him.