Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Boones and his brothers lived in the center of the village, with all the conveniences of the local shopping and transportation.
Tiago had installed heavy security in both places, relying on technology instead of the presence of armed men. Maybe none of it was needed, but he would never risk their lives. Never let his guard down. Never again.
He no longer had the protection of his syndicate or its allies in Caracas. Nor did he have the income from that business. But he’d saved a great deal of money over the years, enough to never need to work again.
She wanted to learn how to heal people and talked about pursuing a degree in medicine. Boones was beside himself when she asked for his guidance.
When they left Colombia, she told her friends it wasn’t a goodbye. She fully intended to return as a doctor, and Tiago would be with her.
He would take her wherever she wanted to go, as long as she never left his sight. If she could deal with his possessive, overprotective inclinations, he would handle everything else.
“What do you want for dinner?” He opened the door to their two-bedroom bungalow and followed her inside.
“Whatever you’re making.”
A few hours later, he made an Eritrean traditional stew served with flatbread and a paste made from lentil and faba beans.
After dinner, they lay side by side on a blanket on the beach behind their house. The moon was bright in the sky, the tequila smooth as water, and the woman beside him more beautiful than the majestic landscape that stretched out around him.
“You’re always in my mind, Tiago.” She stretched out on her back and smiled up at the stars. “Perhaps not always a happy thought. Sometimes I’m plotting your demise. But you’re always there, always a part of me.” She turned her neck and looked at him. “Is that weird?”
“No.” He rolled toward her and slid the hem of the dress up her thighs. “I want to live in your mind, your heart, and—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—your cunt.”
“You said it.” She laughed.
“I meant it.”
“I know.” She drew in a breath and ran a hand across his shaved jaw. “Nothing’s ever felt more real than this. It scares me sometimes.”
“Surrender to it.” He gathered the dress above her waist, and the sight of her bare pussy made him painfully hard. “Open your legs.”
She let her knees fall open and looked at him with all the trust in the world. He deserved none of it, but he would spend the rest of his life making sure she never regretted her gift.
Removing the finger blade from his pocket, he fit it onto his finger.
She swallowed. Her eyes glistened. Then she lifted her chin and smiled.
Sweet surrender.
He made small shallow cuts that wouldn’t scar, and between each nick, he kissed her cunt until she came.
As the tide rolled in and warm water gathered beneath them, they fused together in a slow dance of seduction and heavy breaths. She stroked his cock. He made love to her mouth. She sucked him off, and he cut her again.
Perspiration slicked their skin, easing the glide of their bodies, the slip of hands, and the drive of his thrusts as they licked and fucked and bled together.
Some might consider their love dark and disturbing, but he thought of it as spiritual, unearthly, and wickedly filthy.
Despite all their fights and trials and mistakes, they never lost their sense of selves.
In the end, she saw something in him no one else had been able to see.
She saw a heart worthy enough to take.