Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
I don’t want to mess things up with Milo either, though.
I just feel too emotionally drained to look out for us. All the energy I have left tonight has to be spent on taking care of myself.
I’m not sure he’ll understand.
I don’t pull any clothes on, but I wrap a silk robe around myself.
I feel destructive, but I try to shake it off.
My insides feel hollow as I flick off the bathroom light and open the door.
The bedroom is dark, the door out to the hallway closed. It wasn’t closed before, so I’m guessing Milo is in here.
I think about keeping the robe on, but then I hear him move. Knowing he’s there waiting for me, I change my mind, pushing it off before climbing into bed with him.
I don’t want to talk, so I scoot across the bed until I feel his warmth. Determined to skip straight to not using our words, I feel beneath the covers hoping he’s naked, too.
He’s shirtless but wearing sleep pants.
Not what I was hoping for, but at least he’s half undressed.
I pull my hair back over my shoulder and bend to kiss his muscular chest. He sucks in a breath, surprised, but lets me kiss my way over each firm pec, straining when I tease each nipple with the tip of my tongue.
Positioning my body on top of his and straddling his hips, I bend and kiss my way lower. I kiss my way down his cut abdomen and thrill when I feel his cock harden against me.
“Kennedy.”
Normally, I love the sound of his voice, but I don’t want to hear it now because I know he’ll only say something I won’t like.
I ignore him and slide my hand down to cup his hard-on through his sleep pants. He groans as I wrap my fingers around him, grabbing my hip.
I wish he was grabbing it to force me tighter against his cock or to roll me over and climb on top of me, but I know better. We’ve been here before, and when Milo has determined me not in a state to make my own decisions, he’s always shut it down.
It’s not happening tonight.
I won’t be shut down.
He will fuck me; I won’t take no for an answer.
Boldly, I grip his cock tighter and tug the way I know he likes. I can feel how much he wants me. I’ll make him lose control. I’ll make him want me too much to care about his stubborn sense of decency.
I stroke him, bending to tease his nipples again.
“Kennedy,” he says again, more softly.
No.
He’s in control. He’s not even close to losing it.
Goddammit.
Ignoring the roadblock, I slide my hand down the front of his sleep pants, grabbing his bare cock. The breath hisses through his teeth as he strains to ignore the sensation of my soft hand wrapped around his hot flesh, but I won’t fucking let him. I lower myself, dragging down the pants and bending to take his cock into my mouth.
“Kennedy,” he says again more firmly, stopping me before I can get my mouth around him.
The firmness in his tone jolts me. I still don’t want to listen, but it’s harder to ignore him when he uses that authoritative tone on me.
“I want to suck you,” I say, trying again to lower my face and take him in my mouth.
“No.”
His rejection makes my stomach drop.
I look up at him, but my eyes haven’t adjusted to the dark yet. He’s just a silhouette on the bed, and I fight the irrational urge to burst into tears.
He feels far away from me. I think it’s my fault. I’m not myself right now, I’m the shadow of a lost girl whose own mother doesn’t give a fuck about her.
Maybe he doesn’t want this version of me, especially for our first time together, but right now I need to be worn out and depleted. Maybe then my body will let me rest so that tomorrow I can find my way back.
But Milo is a good man at the end of the day, and that shouldn’t make me so angry—normally, I love that about him—but right now, it does.
I never fight him for control because I love how it makes me feel when he wields it, but tonight we don’t want the same thing, and I’m not interested in backing down.
I’m not going to back down, and since he isn’t used to that, I don’t know how he’ll react. I don’t know what my refusal to accept his decisions will cost me.
“We need to talk about what happened, sweetheart,” he says gently.
“No, we don’t,” I snap. “Maybe you need to talk about what happened. I don’t. Nothing happened. It’s done. It’s over. I’m not talking about it—not with you, not with anyone. Not now, and not ever. It doesn’t matter.”