Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I lifted myself to look directly down at her, seeing that the tears were long gone. “How did that feel?”
“It hurt, but I came harder than I ever have. Not sure how that worked…”
“It’s because I know what I’m doing.” I kissed the corner of her mouth then slowly pulled out of her. Then I lifted her from the bed and carried her into the walk-in shower in the bathroom. The warm water filled the bathroom with steam, and her fancy makeup and hair spray were washed away with the running water.
Her mascara streaked down her face, and like she knew it was there, she wiped it away with both hands. Staring down at her fingertips, she looked at the black ink before rubbing them together to dissolve the color.
Her eyes weren’t red from her tears, and now that we were finished, she was back to her usual self. But she seemed tired, despite all the energy she had just fifteen minutes ago. She tilted her head under the water and let it streak down her body, the warmth enveloping her. She released a quiet sigh, so quiet I couldn’t hear it. But when I watched her chest rise and fall, I knew it occurred.
Now that her makeup was gone, it was just her underneath the water. Beautiful skin, gorgeous eyes, and utter perfection.
I moved under the water with her and cupped her face, my fingertips touching her wet skin. My nose brushed against hers as I felt the warm water run down my back. Then I pulled her into me and kissed her.
Kissed her slowly.
When I had something this pretty, I wanted to cherish it. I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible, like it could be taken away from me at any time. Now that I’d given her freedom, she could walk away from me whenever she wanted.
But when I really thought about it, I wondered if I could keep my word if she really did leave.
What if she decided to stay in New York once the show was over? Would I really be able to board my jet and leave? Would I really be able to say goodbye? She was such an integral part of my life that I couldn’t imagine it.
I didn’t want marriage and kids with this woman, but it seemed like I still wanted a lifetime.
It didn’t make any sense.
I continued to kiss her under the water, to taste the shower on her lips. My hand cradled the back of her hair, and I felt my cock slowly harden once more. Arousal was natural when I kissed a woman like this, but sex wasn’t my end game. I’d just had an amazing climax, had fucked my fantasy in the ass and watched her cry. The last thing I needed was more sex.
Now I just wanted her.
I wanted this connection between us, this intimacy. Her kiss was the luxury I lived for, something that made me weak in the knees. When I was with her, I felt like a teenager all over again. I felt the heat in my stomach and the excitement in my lungs every time I took a breath. I’d bedded so many women before her, all perfect in their own ways.
But there was something about this one…
Something about Muse.
I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I broke away and grabbed the loofah sitting on the shelf. I drenched it in water before I squirted soap onto her chest. Then I started to scrub her, to wash away all the lube and oil that made its way everywhere. I massaged her skin, working the muscles that ached from her constantly perfect posture. I watched her eyes soften as I made her feel good, washed her clean after how dirty I’d just made her.
She watched me through her thick lashes, a faint smile on her lips. She softened directly at my touch, her body relaxing the longer I caressed her. She watched my hands and stared at the soap suds that started to cover her body. “Conway?”
“Yes?” I rubbed the sponge through the valley between her breasts and down her stomach.
“How many women have you been with?”
My sponge stopped at her hip, the suds running down her leg toward the drain. I kept my eyes on my movements before I lifted my gaze back to hers. She’d never asked me a question like that before, and it was probably because she never had the power to do so. “Why?”
“I’m just curious. You know about my past.”
“You mean, your lack of a past.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I’m not asking as some jealous girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. There was that word again. But I let it go. “I’m not sure, but several dozen.”
“Several dozen?” she asked. “That’s very vague.”
“Well, I don’t count every single conquest. I’d say it’s less than a hundred, but barely.”