Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
How she’d gotten that birth certificate was still a mystery to me. I’d questioned my entire staff because I’d figured there’d been a leak in my inner circle. But I wasn’t so sure anymore. My people had been loyal to me for fifteen years, and it was difficult to believe that one of them would sell me out, trashing my opportunity with the one and only woman I’d ever loved. Someone or something more nefarious was involved, and I was determined to find out what.
In the meantime, I loved Alison and was determined to have her, even if our wedding ceremony had been thwarted today. I lowered my head and demonstrated my love in the best way I knew how. I kissed her where her pulse beat at her throat, the rhythm immediately skyrocketing as my tongue tasted her lovely flesh. My wildflower was so sweet and so responsive to me, even at the nadir of our relationship.
“Please,” I murmured, “Just give me more time. I want to make it right. That bitch …” I spat. “That bitch,” I continued, controlling myself, “shouldn’t make a difference. Don’t give up so easily,” I pleaded.
She stroked my hair softly, her fingers running through the thick softness. I took advantage of the moment and captured her mouth for a deep kiss. “Alison,” I groaned. “Don’t give up…”
“I know,” she breathed into my mouth. “I know …”
17
Alison
My heart pounded as he swept me into a hungry embrace. I let myself sink into his arms, but also knew this would be our last time together. The hurdles had proved too difficult, too heart-wrenching, and after the dramatic entry of Sabrina at our wedding ceremony, I knew that it was best to let Liam go. He belonged to a different echelon of society, with different rules and expectations. The discovery of our illicit relationship meant that my hopes for a quiet beginning were dashed.
I sighed into his mouth. Even if we could never be together, I wanted our last time to be a gesture of love, something that I could take with me forever. He was so overpowering, sensuous and masculine, that I wanted it to last forever in my memory.
Sensing my surrender, his arms tightened around me and he pressed his lips against mine, murmuring, “Wildflower, Wildflower.”
My heart almost broke at the words. I had pined for Liam for so long, and to come so close only to lose him once more made my heart swell and tears pool in my eyes.
He thought that the tears were for today’s aborted ceremony. They were, but even more, they were tears for a future together which didn’t exist.
“Hush baby, don’t cry,” he whispered in my ear as his hands stroked my cheek. He kissed my hot lids, softly tracing the wet trail of tears. When his mouth found mine, he was almost desperate, pushing his tongue into my mouth deeply, forcefully, branding me his once again.
I responded without abandon because I would always be his. I gave myself up to his embrace while returning it one hundred percent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against his chest, and ground my hips against his hardness, feeling him gasp, an immediate hardening against my tummy. He began stripping me, roughly pulling at the zip of my ill-fated wedding gown, and tearing at the fabric.
“Goddammit,” he growled. “Fuck this dress,” he panted. “I’m going to get you something even nicer, even fancier for next time.”
I nodded silently, not daring to answer for fear that my voice would break. There wouldn’t be a next time. I was going to take Georgie and disappear. Where to, I didn’t know yet, but there couldn’t be another next time. My heart couldn’t bear it.
I returned his kiss ravenously, my hands fumbling at his waist band, undoing the clasp of his tuxedo pants. I tore at his zip, eager to wrap my hands around his hot shaft. Ahh! There it was. His cock was so hard and hot it almost scalded my hand, the flesh rigid yet soft under his velvety skin. I grasped him in my small hands and ran them up and down his pole, causing him to grunt and buck his hips.
“Ohh,” he moaned in my ear. “More baby,” he groaned.
I obliged, wanting to remember this last time together. I licked my palm and grasped his shaft tightly, running the flat of my hand up and down before trailing my fingers gently against his hardness, tickling his flesh. I then reached below and squeezed his balls, feeling how full they were, filled with his virility. He moaned into my mouth, his sacs tensing and hardening in my hand as they got ready to shoot. Wanting to prolong his arousal, I let go, instead tracing a fingertip lightly against the seam of his ball sac, trying to memorize every crevice, every curve of my man.