Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“You’re still standing,” I point out, and her eyes widen as I pull out of her. She looks at me, surprised. I pick up the knife from the floor and step real close to her. Her hand presses against my chest to stop me from getting any closer.
“You have so many cuts,” she whispers, her fingers coasting along my skin where my shirt has fallen open.
“They’ll heal.” I wave my hand dismissively.
“I-If I let you cut me, will it hurt?” she asks tentatively.
My lips pull into a smile without even thinking about it.
“It’s not meant for pain. It’s meant for pleasure,” I tell her.
She drops her hand until it locks around my cock. “Show me,” she demands.
I raise the knife and grip it tight in my hand. My other hand caresses her throat where I had it before.
“I did already.” I smirk as she touches her throat and looks up at me, surprised. “Seems we found a way that makes you not pass out with blood. You have to be horny.” I smash my lips to hers, and if I had the energy right now, I would lift her up.
Her hand slides up and down my cock, and she gasps as I run the flat side of the blade up her naked thigh, getting closer to her center. I feel her open a little more before she stops and pulls back.
“Stop.” I do as she asks.
I’ve made her scream multiple times, and now she requests I stop?
Her moans still fill the room as my phone continues to play behind us.
“Move.”
I step back, taking the knife with me.
Her gaze takes me in, but she quickly looks away. “You’re hurt. You need to stop.” She puts up her hand to halt me from touching her again. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. What was I thinking?” She shakes her head and sidesteps me before I can catch her.
I stand there as she hurries to her room, and I hear the shower turn on. After a minute, I go into the living room where the first aid kit is located, retrieve a new bandage, and remove the one that’s soaked in blood. It’s starting to feel better than it did yesterday, though it still stings like a fucking bitch. Once the wound is redressed and I’ve cleaned up the blood, I find her sitting at a vanity with a towel wrapped around her body and putting her hair back in a ponytail.
“The mutt liked you.”
She glances at me but looks back to her mirror. “Why are you here when you have a massive house? My bed is small and uncomfortable as shit, yet here you are,” she exclaims, turning to face me. “I’ve laid on your bed. It’s soft like feathers. So why are you here?”
“I suck at sleeping,” I tell her honestly.
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“I slept good here.”
“So, what? You think you can just stay here?” Her brows rise. “I work and can’t come home to someone wanting to cut my dresses off when I just bought them. Some of us aren’t made of money.” She takes the towel off and starts dressing herself, while I have to remember to calm my fucking cock down.
It does not need to be in her again—it’s already had its fill.
But the greedy bastard wants more.
Can’t say I blame him.
“Stop staring at me like that,” she whispers.
“You went from this quiet, shy woman—”
“I still am those things, just not around you.” She huffs, pulling on a T-shirt that almost hits her knees.
“I wonder why that is.”
“Because you annoy me and think you own me. When in reality, you don’t.” She points at her finger with the ring on it. “You think because you bought me an expensive ring, I’m yours.”
“How do you know the ring’s expensive?”
She rolls her eyes.
“You avoided the question.” I let her push past me as she walks to her bed, then she pulls the covers back and climbs in. “When can we divorce?” she asks, sitting up.
“Never.”
“Kenzo.” She basically growls my name.
I look down, and my cock is getting hard again.
“Say my name like that again, and I’ll slide right into you.”
“Fuck off.” She pulls the covers up and moves down the bed. I shift to the other side, remove my clothes, and climb in next to her. “You have your own house, and clearly, you are functioning enough to get there.”
“I’m broken,” I say in a pitiful tone.
“Lies.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Totally and utterly broken.”
“I want a divorce,” she states, and the room goes silent. “You’ve had your fun, and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. Hopefully, the sex was payment enough.” My hands ball at my sides. “Stop growling. You aren’t a werewolf,” she chides and turns toward me. Her hands cup my face and pull me to her so I can see into her eyes. For someone with shitty vision, it always feels like she’s looking straight through me.