Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I try to focus on what I need to do, adding soap and building a lather in my hands. Starting with her legs, I work my way up to her breasts. When my thumbs graze her nipples, they harden for me, and it feeds my urge to touch her everywhere.
I’m not thinking clearly when my fingers move between her thighs, and I start to toy with her again. Ella sighs, closing her eyes as she gives in to me without even realizing it. She’s wet and slippery, and it lends a frantic pace to her pleasure. I study her face, her breath, every sweet sound as I finger her and grope her tits with my free hand. Within seconds, she’s already coming for me again, spasms rocking through her body, lips falling apart as she hums out her release.
A goddess on fire.
Her breath calms, and I wash her in all the places I missed, sometimes going over the same curves twice. When I come to the scars on her arms, her eyes fly open, and she tries to recoil. My fingers capture her wrist, locking her in my grip as I survey the mangled skin, touching it with a tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of.
“What happened, Ella?”
She swallows, and the bathroom is so quiet I can hear her every breath. I wonder if she’ll be open, or if she’ll try to keep her secrets. Either way, she won’t escape me until I’ve learned everything there is to know about her.
“It’s from the fire,” she whispers. “I fell into it and ended up badly burned.”
Her story reeks of half-truths, but for now, I don’t push it.
“Come.” I hoist her body up into my arms again, drenching my own clothes in soapy bathwater. “I’ll dry you off, and then I’ll bring your dinner.”
“Thorsen.” My mother lights up when she sees me. “Lavinia will be so pleased you’re here. She hasn’t spoken of anything else all week.”
I force a smile for her benefit and sit down beside her. “I’m more interested in spending some time with you first.”
Her eyes dim, and she drags her hand across her lap, trying to reach out for me, but it’s not working as well today. Soon, it won’t work at all, and this is a stark reminder that these moments are fleeting. The problem is I simply don’t know how to make the most of them.
“I thought you’d be happy,” she says. “Isn’t Lavinia the woman you’ve been looking for?”
When it takes me too long to answer, it only seems to add to her anxiety.
“Oh, dear. Have I gotten things confused again?”
“No, Mor.” I squeeze her fingers. “You haven’t.”
The threat my father made still lurks in the back of my mind, and truthfully, I can’t bring myself to admit any alternate reality. My mother has always thought so highly of me, even when everyone else turned their backs. She never abandoned me or told me I needed to snap out of it or tried to correct my behaviors with harsh words and a cold heart. She has only ever been warm and considerate, and I can’t bear the thought of her discovering how much of a monster I truly am. If she had so much as an inkling of what I’ve already done to Ella, she wouldn’t have the will to live through the week.
“Thorsen.” Her hazy eyes roam over my face. “Have I been a bad mother to you?”
“What?” I inhale sharply. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“I just… I don’t know.” She stares off into the distance, recalling something I’m probably better off not knowing. “All these years, things have been so tense between you and your father. And you’ve always been so… angry. I can’t help wondering what I might have done differently.”
My eyes fall shut on a sigh, and pain lances through my blackened heart. I have to remind myself that it’s better she doesn’t know. I’ve always wanted to protect her from the ugly truths hiding in this family, and now more so than ever. But it doesn’t change the regret I carry deep in my soul that she wasn’t the first person I went to in my time of need.
“F-f-father, may I speak with you?”
He looks up at me from his desk, his face stern. Even at ten years old, I understand that he’s a man with many burdens. Too many to count. I don’t want to be another. But I’m scared, and I’m tired, and the pain is too much to keep inside anymore.
“What is it, Thor?” he asks. “I’m busy.”
My lips freeze, and my body ices over as I wonder if I should just leave. I don’t want to make him mad. All I ever seem to do is bother him. But the pain, I feel it every time I move. Every step I take. Every breath I inhale. I’ve never known such pain, and even now, my eyes are blurry with unshed tears. Father always tells me that men don’t cry. I know I can’t let those tears fall because it will make me weak. But I also know if I leave here right now, I’ll be a different sort of coward.