Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
What do I think? I think I’d love nothing more than to flip that knee-length skirt over her ass and rail her until she’s a sobbing, gushing mess on my cock. The girl hasn’t learned the danger of asking loaded questions.
“Why would you buy a dress with me in mind?”
She rolls her eyes before crossing the terrace, taking one measured step at a time, my dick twitching all the while.
“You’re going to pretend you don’t look at me the way you do?”
Folding my arms, I scoff. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her hair sparkles in the moonlight as she shakes her head.
“We both know that isn’t true. I caught the way you looked at me the last time we all had dinner together. And in the library. You almost ripped that guy’s head off to protect me.”
“I would’ve done the same thing if it was Luna in that position.”
“Not exactly the same thing.” She comes to a stop mere inches from me, leaving me helpless against the sweet, light scent of her floral perfume. “Come on. Do I have to spell it out?”
“You don’t have to do anything but come back to the dining room.”
“You know I like you,” she whispers, her cheeks blushing at the admission. “And I think you like me, too. Why are we pretending otherwise?”
“I like you as a person,” I reply, my voice strained. “That’s it. To me, you’re a little sister. You’re a kid.”
“I know you don’t mean that.”
“What makes you say that?” I force a smirk when, in reality, apprehension is beginning to trickle through my veins, turning my body cold.
She sees through me. I can’t have that. It’s the most dangerous aspect of a situation already fraught with enough tension to snap my sanity.
She’s beaming with trust and enough hope to break my heart when she speaks. “You think you’re being noble.”
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.
But damned if her innocence doesn’t strike me as hilarious. Here I am, fighting for my life, pretending my dick isn’t doing its damnedest to convince me we’d both be much more comfortable if he was out and buried deep in her pussy. Pretending I haven’t entertained dangerous fantasies about being her first in every way.
In my head, I’ve taken her in every filthy, depraved way possible.
And she thinks I’m being noble.
Who could blame me for laughing?
Her delicate brows draw together. “What’s so funny?” she demands, even stomping her foot like the child she still is in so many ways.
It only makes me laugh harder.
“You,” I finally manage to gasp. Her cheeks darken, pain touching her eyes and making her mouth tick downward at the corners.
Guilt lances me, and immediately, I want to apologize. Hurting her is the last thing I want to do.
She deserves nothing less than complete happiness, safety, and security. The very thought of causing her pain leaves me with a burning ache in my chest.
It’s better this way.
That’s all that keeps me from letting an apology slip from my lips. Knowing it’s better for her to hate me or at least resent my dismissiveness.
The sooner she abandons these pointless fantasies, the better for us both. Because I don’t know how many of these encounters I can make it through before my thin grasp on self-control dissolves.
“You’re a child,” I continue, knowing it digs the knife in deeper but pushing through my guilt just the same. The guilt would be much worse if I gave in. If I forgot the many reasons this can’t happen.
“Do I look like a child to you?” she whispers, tilting her head to the side.
Wrong question. Way wrong. It’s almost enough to make me hate her for putting me through this. If I thought she had any real understanding of the fire she’s so carelessly playing with, my insatiable craving might turn to resentment.
“You know what I’m saying,” I continue in a low, smooth voice that completely belies the torment tearing me in half. “You’re acting like a child. Only children think things will always go their way. They don’t understand the reasons for the existence of rules and boundaries.”
She has the nerve to scoff and toss her head, which has the unfortunate effect of sending a fresh wave of sweet scent my way. “All of a sudden, you care about rules and boundaries? That’s new.”
“Don’t pretend to know anything about me,” I warn, watching her shoulders lift defensively at my change in tone. “If anything, you should understand the importance of what I’m trying to tell you. You think I don’t care about rules, but here I am, trying to convince you how wrong this is. Give it a little thought, and you’ll see what I mean.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Stop.” Rather than lash out the way she would if this was nothing more than a game of sibling teasing, her voice is soft. She shakes her head while a tiny smile curves her tempting, glossy lips.