Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
“All right?” he murmurs.
Except for wishing that I could touch him. “Yes.”
His eyes darken as he glances down between us. “If I remember Shakespeare right, when someone takes a pound of flesh, the rule is that they can’t draw any blood with it.”
“You remember right,” I say. “But it was nitpicking bullshit, so that Antonio could wriggle his way out of paying the debt that he owed to Shylock.”
His mouth quirks. “Seems you paid better attention in class than I did.”
Steadily, I meet his gaze. “I don’t want to wriggle my way out. I’d rather pay what I owe.”
Especially if this is how I’m paying. His lathered hands move higher, soaping their way up my sides, before his right palm skims up my spine to clasp my nape.
“Sure would like to kiss you as deep and hard as I just fucked you,” he says gruffly. Warmth spills through my chest as he tilts my head back, bending his mouth toward mine. “Take all the sweetness you have to give.”
I want that, too. So much. But his fingers tighten in my hair as I rise up onto my toes, stopping my lips from meeting his.
His voice goes low and rough. “Then I remember how I landed in the shit after kissing you before. How I wanted everything that kiss said you had to give. So I’m sure as fuck not kissing you like that again. I just want answers and pussy.”
A spear of pain lances into my heart. “I don’t have answers.”
“Bullshit. You’re real smart, girl. Good memory, too. So don’t tell me you didn’t pay attention those three months, because I’m not letting you go until I get those answers from you.”
“You have to,” I tell him thickly, my throat raw. “That was the deal. I pay what I owe, then you let me go.”
A muscle in his jaw works. I choke on a startled cry when he abruptly spins me around, pressing my upper body against the cold tile wall. His big body crowds up behind, one roughened hand palming my breast, his mouth hot against my ear.
“Then I’ll be collecting for a long damn time, won’t I?” His hard cock is a rigid brand nestled against the split of my ass. “Your little fuckhole makes me feel real good, but how many times do you figure your pussy will have to suck me off before I get rid of this rot in my chest? How long until we’re even?”
“It’ll never be even,” I tell him on ragged breaths that fog the ceramic tile in front of me. It never could be even. “But I’ll pay what I can—and you have to let me go soon.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he snarls.
With a scream of frustration locked behind my teeth, I shove back against his solid form. Stone doesn’t budge an inch. Just laughs.
“Go on and fight, then. Get that cunt slicked up with your mad,” he rasps, pinching my nipple between his knuckles, sending a sharp and unexpected zing of heat across my skin. His other hand angles down over my stomach. “And maybe if you don’t come, I’ll get tired of this pussy real fast. Want to try that?”
Oh god. Even as his fingers begin to tease my engorged clit, I nod and gasp my response. “I’ll try that.”
Though I’m already helplessly rocking my hips back against him, already arching my spine to press my breast more firmly into his hand. I feel him move, then white hot pleasure flares behind my eyes when his thick length surges deep, a powerful thrust that lifts me onto my tiptoes.
And I come twice before the hot water runs cold.
25
Stone
Closing my eyes near a woman who once planned to kill a guard to escape probably isn’t the smartest choice I ever made. But for five nights straight, I fall asleep while holding her close and wake up with her in my arms.
She hasn’t slit my throat. But she sure is killing me slow.
Every morning, she wakes up long before dawn—still on barn time. Since I’m a real light sleeper, I wake up, too. Then I just stay quiet, because she doesn’t get up, doesn’t do anything except snuggle a little closer, lightly lay her hand on my chest, and slowly fall asleep again.
It’s her hand that’s killing me. And it’s what I ought to push away. I’ve made it pretty clear: no touching me, no deep kissing. I’ll take all the softness and sweetness that I can from her pussy, and leave everything else she has to give on the floor. So it’ll be a whole lot easier to walk away when I’m done with her.
At least, that was the plan.
Now I’m completely fucked anyway. And every morning, she touches me. Lays her hand right over my heart. As if she wants more than my cock or to pay what she owes. As if she wants more than the one thing she’s ever asked for.