Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“I’ve been a liar since this started,” I snap, following her.
“You didn’t lie. You just didn’t tell me how you felt, but you want to do the right thing.”
I walk across the room and take her hands. She tightens her grip on me immediately, as though she’s been waiting for the contact, as eager for it as I always am.
“I lied about my reason for bringing my business home and settling down.”
Her eyes snap open wide, reminding me of her virginity. It’s all I’ve been able to think about, dominating my mind, even louder than knowing we were supposed to tell Noah and Elena the truth.
“It was for you,” I say fiercely. “I wanted to be closer to you. I knew it was a mistake even as I was doing it.”
“And now?” she whispers. “Do you still think it’s a mistake?”
“I should, but I can’t.”
I kiss her hard, grabbing her sweet ass at the same time. She’s wearing shorts, letting me slip my hand beneath the fabric and massage her bare skin. We end up on the couch, Layla on the bottom, my manhood pushing forcefully against my shorts. Our clothes are thin, as though we knew this was where it would end, our lust making imprints on each other’s bodies.
“Miles,” she whispers between kisses. “Not here.”
“I know.” I groan, kissing her again.
She shifts against me, her legs opening, and I lean down and drive my manhood against her groin, grinding up and down so we both feel our bodies roaring at us.
Start a family. Now.
She gasps, “Miles, p-please.”
I could kiss her again, and I know she’d respond. It’s plain in her voice, its shivering quality, and her tone unhinged and filled with lust. With an effort, I sit up. She does the same, and I slip my arm around her.
“Aren’t you angry with me? I know how badly you wanted to tell them.”
I let my hand rest on her bare thigh, staring at my fingers sinking into her perfect, voluptuous leg.
“How can I be when you’ve got your smoking legs on show, eh?”
“I’m serious.”
Even when she says that, there’s a shimmer of desire.
“They have to know,” I say.
“Before we do anything, right?”
I laugh savagely. “I should say yes. That would be the avuncular thing to do.”
“Avuncular. That means uncle-like, right?”
“Something like that.”
“You are a good uncle,” she says. “The way you stood up for me last night… Nobody’s ever done that before.”
I squeeze her leg gently, tempted to slide my hand higher to palm her pussy. It doesn’t help that I can remember her taste whenever I want, her sweet release on my tongue.
“Does that make me a good uncle or a good boyfriend?”
She looks up with emotion in her eyes. “You sort of have to be both unless we convince Mom and Noah to get a divorce.”
“I wouldn’t do that, ever,” I tell her. “Noah deserves to be happy.”
“So does Mom. Does that mean you’re my boyfriend-uncle now?”
“It has a nice ring to it.”
She leans up, kissing me, but ends it quickly. Maybe she can sense the starvation in me. She knows if we keep kissing, I won’t be able to stop myself from tearing off her shorts. This time, when I push inside her, she will open up, and the walls of her virgin pussy will wrap around my dick, taking every inch. I’ll fuck her right here on the family couch. Maybe I’ll regret it after, but my primal part won’t—the savage. My seed definitely won’t, either.
“We have to tell them before Graham does,” Layla mutters after the kiss.
My head is cloudy with all my desire, making it difficult to think, but I nod. She’s right.
She huffs, stands, walks to the window, and spins on me.
“Aren’t you nervous about it at all? What if Noah hates you forever?”
The question stabs right into me.
“I can’t imagine that,” I tell her honestly.
“Well, maybe you need to work your imagination harder because Mom hating me is all I can think about. I wouldn’t be able to take it. I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Neither do I,” I whisper, “but Noah… He’d understand.”
She returns, sitting, but keeps some distance between us. Our hands smooth across the middle cushion. We hold each other because we have to touch.
“Are you sure?” she says softly.
“We can tell them we’re going to be together forever. We’re going to have a marriage and children.”
She shivers, smiling. “Say that again.”
“Children.” I lean closer. “A marriage…”
We lose ourselves kissing, and Layla says, “Are you sure that will be enough? Just because we think the impossible is possible doesn’t mean they will.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t… matter?”
“It does,” I snap, “on one level, but I know I can’t let you go. Twenty armed men could crash through the door, determined to take you, and I’d kill and die before I let that happen. You’re mine, Layla. Mine.”