Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
But it doesn’t stop me from testing them. When I slip my hands beneath the fabric of his shirt to feel his skin, he sighs out his pleasure. His movements are still jarring. Hard, brute thrusts that he can barely control. His body is powerful and solid in my hands. But he’s unsure of himself.
When he yanks down my chemise and my breasts bounce free, he becomes distracted and stops moving altogether as he pauses to stare at them. His eyes are heavy with hunger when he dips his head to taste me. He pins me down and licks at my nipples. And then he’s sucking me into his mouth, groaning against my skin.
He’s a mixture of brutal and sensual. Sweet and hard. Rough and thoughtful.
Everything about him is so fucking male. His hands, his mouth… they dwarf every part of me. In his arms, I’m small and fragile. Completely at his mercy. His cock inside of me stretches me to the point of pleasure and pain.
He starts moving again, and I can’t do anything but lay here and take it. His perfect hair mussed from my hands, his pants hanging just off his hips as he fucks me into the bed. I never want it to end. But the pressure I so desperately need to escape is building inside of me, and I can’t hold back any longer.
My head jerks back against the pillow and I dig my fingers into his back as I come hard and clamp down around his cock. Guttural and unfamiliar sounds vibrate from my throat against Ronan’s chest as he echoes me with his own. Warm spurts of his come fill me as he tips his head back and closes his eyes.
I wrap my arms around him and squeeze, terrified that he’s going to go away now. Like he always does. That he’ll leave and pretend this never happened for another two years. I’m not ready for that. I can’t handle that.
I don’t want to stop touching him. I don’t want to stop feeling this way. The way I do when I’m with him. Maybe it makes me weak, to want someone so much. But if he were to say the word right now, I would be his. I’d do anything he asked of me in this moment.
But just as I feared, when his breathing has calmed, he pulls away. He won’t even look at me as he fastens his belt buckle and zips up his pants before smoothing his hair back into place.
“Ronan?”
There’s no response. He just ignores me as if I’m nothing. And I can take that treatment from everyone else in my life, but not him. So when he gets up to leave, I lash out at him the only way I can.
“When can I expect you back?” I yell at his retreating form. “Another two years from now? You just gonna’ come in here and fuck me as you please like every other man in your outfit tries to? Well next time, make sure you bring a condom because I’m not on the fucking pill!”
His shoulders draw together as he reaches for the door, and I know I’ve hit a nerve with him. I shouldn’t have said it, but it’s the truth. He doesn’t have to worry about these things as he goes on his merry way, but I do.
Just like the last time.
I saw the way he watched me after it happened. For months, he kept glancing at my stomach. Wondering. Fearing. Worrying. I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid he’d gotten me pregnant.
That only makes it hurt worse.
And if I had needed any confirmation that leaving this place is the best thing for me, this is it. But when he slams the door behind him, it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
Chapter Eleven
Ronan
Time in this black space does not exist.
I haven’t any clue how long it’s been since I’ve seen another human. Not even Farrell or Coyne. The closest I come is when the door opens and a small sliver of light spills in for a moment as they toss me a mesh bag with my rations for the day.
The bread is always moldy and stale, but I eat it nonetheless. I miss the lady in the room. The one who cared for us. But they told me I will never see her again. I’m a man now, they say. It’s time to forget all else apart from my training and my purpose.
The racket never ceases. Every day, it’s loud music. And then crying babies. Tortured screams. An endless reel of noise. I’ve become immune to it. Learned to sleep with it. But the bugs and the rats, I cannot. They are always crawling on me, and I can’t see them.
I feel as though I’m going mad. I think that’s what they want. Then I question if the bugs are even real. If perhaps I only imagine them in my head.