Only For Him Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
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I know what it’s like to spiral. I’ve been here before and I’m not okay.

I wish I knew if he really loved me or if he’s simply deciding what piece in the game I am and where he’s going to put me. I wish I knew how this was going to end.

The one thing I wish more than anything was that I wasn’t so desperately in love with him and weak for him but I think I always have been.

The bedroom door opens without warning and my heart attempts to leap out of my chest.

As it batters inside of me, I realize it’s only Declan.

Still, my nerves are unsteady. With what looks like a very heavy black duffle bag on one arm, he strides in and dumps it onto the dresser.

I’ve barely moved from the bed. And as he stands there, as if he’s waiting for me, I pull the covers up tighter around myself.

“Declan?” My gaze moves to the bag as he unzips it and the sound fills the room. Nerves prick all over my body. Something’s wrong. It’s in his posture, in the silence. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t give any attention at all to my nervousness. Instead he pulls back the fabric and reveals stacks of cash. I don’t have any idea how much it is, or if it’s even real. From the bed, I haven’t the faintest clue, all I know is that he’s staring at it rather than me.

The bed creaks as I shift on it, calling out his name again. “Declan?”

He swallows so hard, I can hear it.

My gaze moves from him, to the cash and back up to him, his sharp gaze piercing into me. Instantly I’m hot all over. The intensity is all too much.

He stalks toward me and it doesn’t make any sense that the closer he is, the more comfort I feel. Even when he looks at me like that.

He stops just short of the bed, only inches from me. He could touch me if he wanted.

“Will you kiss me?” he questions.

I answer in the only way I desire, by sitting up on my knees and pressing my lips to his. It’s a balm to my soul. The moment his lips meet mine and his hands wrap around my waist, every nerve is soothed. Every fear is forgotten when he kisses me back.

It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. The thoughts don’t last long, with his grip on my upper arms as the chill of the air comes between us.

When I peer up at him, his hazel eyes are closed for a moment too long.

He’s quiet as he pulls back, his fingers in my hair.

“Declan, what’s going on?” I barely manage in a whisper. “You’re scaring me.”

“We’ll be leaving,” he finally tells me and I almost ask where we’re going. Including myself in the statement but I was wrong to assume. I thought maybe, for a split moment, he would take me away. We would run together. My foolish heart. We were never destined to simply be together. Not in this life.

“If you want out of this, you run while we’re out.”

“What?” My disbelief coats the single word.

“You go wherever you want. Don’t tell a soul anything, just stay away and I will let you run.”

A numbness creeps inside of me as he pulls back, out of my reach and leaving me there, gripping the edge of the bed like it’s only there to hold me steady. “What are you saying?”

“It’s a way out for you, Braelynn.”

“Declan, stop,” I beg him. But he doesn’t. He keeps telling me there’s enough cash to run and be safe.

As if I could be okay without him. My throat tightens and I can’t take it.

“Stop,” I tell him as the world seems to close in on me. He tells me about security allowing me to leave. “Stop,” I say louder but he doesn’t. He tells me my car and the keys are just beyond the kitchen and that the front door will stay open all week while they prepare for construction. “Red!” I safe word, yelling it across the room and he stills.

Finally he silences himself.

My heart races and all I know is that I’m not okay.

He wants me gone.

“Please take it back,” I say, barely getting the choked words out. He swallows thickly, but he doesn’t do it. Standing between myself and the money, the man I loved, says nothing.

“Please—just—love me.” The pathetic plea leaves me.

The word love hangs in the air. He knows that I love him and I know that men like him don’t love. They survive the damage they cause and then they keep going.

“I need you to understand, my naïve girl, this is for you.”

Shaking my head, I deny that I need this. Running away from him. Stealing his money and hiding … that’s not something I need.


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