Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“We should shower,” he rumbles.
We probably should.
The bedroom was dark when he came in. He’d put a hoodie on since it’s cold outside, but I don’t know if he had it on when he was handling his business. At the very least, I’m sure he got sweaty, and he didn’t shower when he came in. He ripped off his hoodie, kicked off his pants, then climbed on the bed and pried open my thighs. We’ve been fucking pretty much nonstop ever since.
We haven’t unpacked. Dare brought my stuff in, so I don’t even know where anything is.
I guess it doesn’t matter. I follow Silvan into the bathroom, and he flicks on the light.
I gasp, startled at the sight of smeared blood on my body.
My gaze drifts to his hands. His muscled chest. His toned abdomen. Even his cock is smeared with blood. I don’t know if that’s Dylan’s or mine. He got pretty rough with me.
I guess I don’t really care.
We’re both getting clean now.
I follow Silvan into the shower and welcome the piping hot spray as it hits my skin.
He rinses off quickly, then he pours some shampoo in his palm and turns me around. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of his hands in my hair as he lathers me up. He pushes me under the spray when he’s finished and leans in to kiss me, letting the sudsy water run down over both of us.
I’m breathless when he pulls back. My pussy’s going to be exceptionally sore tomorrow, but I want him again.
His eyes twinkle with arrogance to let me know he’s aware, but he’s not done cleaning me. He works some conditioner into my hair, then rinses his hands and reaches for the body wash.
He grabs a soft cloth and lathers it up, then he soaps up my tits and washes my stomach. He pushes it between my legs, and I rest my head back against his strong shoulder as he drags the cloth over my pussy and cleans my thighs.
He takes care of me like he always does.
When he finishes, he hands me the cloth.
Your turn.
He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. I take the cloth and get to work. It’s not like I’m going to say no to another chance to touch him.
I run the cloth over his chest, his abs, his cock, his thighs. I scrub every flake of dried blood off his magnificent body.
It feels like a baptism. A fresh start. A chance to open myself up to things I was too afraid of before.
I don’t feel afraid with him beside me, and he’ll always be beside me.
We’re in this together now. Our souls are twisted around each other, and they’ll continue to grow that way for the rest of our lives.
He’s been trying to tell me that, but I couldn’t believe him. I believe him now.
He pins me to the shower wall and kisses me. He runs his knuckles over the curve of my jaw before grabbing my throat.
I feel my pulse beating in my throat where his hand rests.
He smiles.
He feels it, too.
Never one to deny me the things I want, he slides his hand down to grab my thigh. He lifts it, wraps it around his hip, and guides his cock to my entrance.
I hiss as he pushes into me. My bruised and tender flesh stings, but it feels so good.
“I love you, Silvan.”
I just felt the need to tell him.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His lips quirk. “I love you, too.”
___
We spend Friday night and Saturday in New Hampshire, but Silvan drives us home Sunday afternoon. His parents invited us over for Sunday night dinner, and while I didn’t much enjoy the last one, I figure we should probably go.
I’ll have to get over Silvan’s dad threatening my life and get more comfortable being around him because I’ll be part of the family in a much more official capacity soon.
Silvan gave me a ring before we left the New Hampshire house. His grandma’s ring.
It’s a darkly beautiful ring with an unhappy history, but I think we can breathe new life into it and improve upon its legacy.
He said when his grandfather married his grandmother, he didn’t marry her because he loved her. He married her because his brother did.
She was his trophy, a wrathful token he could snatch away from the kid who had unknowingly stolen his birthright.
A wrathful and proud man, he had this ring custom made for his stolen bride to serve as an endless taunt. He bought her the biggest, most expensive ruby he could find. Silvan said they call it a pigeon’s blood ruby, that it’s the most coveted ruby in the world because of how rare they are. He had the stone cut and crafted in this shape suggestive of a heart and set in a particular and peculiar way, with a smaller band underneath to symbolize her, and a slightly thicker, more dominant band above it, like arms gripping the stolen heart and keeping it—and her—captive.