Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘Your body language disagrees,’ she calls, pulling me to a stop at the door. ‘Tell me.’
Tell her. Will she believe it? I didn’t at the time, and I saw first-hand the nightmare unfolding before me. That bastard lashing her, her body hanging limply. I swallow and turn to face her, as well as facing up to my responsibility. ‘You weren’t punishing me for sleeping with someone else.’
She flinches at the reminder, and though the vision hurts, something sick inside me appreciates her reaction. Because it’s another sign that she cares. The thought of me with another woman pains her. Even now, when she doesn’t know me. ‘Then what was I punishing you for?’
‘Having my guilt thrashed out of me. For hurting myself.’
Another flinch. It’s a minor reaction in contrast to the horror scene that played out in The Manor that awful day, but it still pricks at my skin relentlessly. Her jaw stiffens, her eyes becoming fierce. It’s familiar, if unwelcome right now. ‘Tell me.’
I match her stoic expression and spill. ‘You had yourself whipped, too.’ Her mouth falls open. ‘You let some scumbag shackle you half-naked and you let him whip you. Happy?’
‘Do I fucking look happy?’ she spits, throwing the trousers to the floor. ‘Why the hell would I do that?’
‘Because,’ I say, unable to rein myself in, the anger that’s lain dormant within me all these years racing to the surface unstoppably. I get my threatening face close to hers. She doesn’t budge an inch, squaring up to me in return. My defiant little temptress. My angel. My Ava. Here she fucking is. ‘Because you wanted me to understand how much you loved me. Because you wanted me to feel how you felt when you found me being thrashed.’ My nostrils flare as she stares me down, our noses nearly touching, my body bent a little to make sure of it. ‘And it fucking worked.’
Her jaw, so tight, is ticking wildly. She’s mad. Whether she’s mad because she knows deep inside that she really did do that, or if she’s mad because she can’t remember, isn’t a question I’m bothered about in this moment. Because beyond the anger, I see a familiar, potent craving. I see that mixture of fury and desire. The need to rip a strip off me and rip my clothes off.
When we’re angry with each other, the sex is even more passionate, crazy and satisfying. It’s all here before me now, yet I cannot be the one to make the first move. I can’t push this. For the first time in our relationship, I’m depending on her to give me what I want, and, more importantly, what I need more than anything in the world. Our connection. Our chemistry.
‘Kiss me,’ I demand. ‘Now.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’ I bark, a secret smile hiding behind my straight face.
She doesn’t try to hide hers. ‘Screw you.’
‘Three,’ I say lowly.
‘Zero, baby.’ She lunges forward, smashing her lips to mine, her arms virtually strangling me as she climbs up my body. I stagger back, fucking chaos breaking out in my leather trousers – heat, blood and solid flesh raging down there. She’s unforgiving in her demand for my mouth. Harsh stabs of her tongue against mine, vicious tugs of my hair, deep, throaty groans of pleasure.
My back hits the door frame, jolting her in my arms, not that it distracts her from her mission. I can do nothing more than keep up with her pace, silently demanding her to start ridding us of clothes so I can lose myself in her. Find the peace I need. Relish the joining of our bodies.
Her hot, wet tongue circles my mouth, our heads tilting and turning constantly, taking other angles, pulling back, smashing together once again. It’s madness. Disorderly. Absolutely incredible.
And then as quickly as it started, it stops. Like she could have been hit with a thousand volts of electricity, she catapults back, forcing me to release her before she dives clean out of my arms. ‘Oh my God,’ she sputters, brushing herself down, hands faffing everywhere, eyes avoiding mine. That kiss has wiped me of breath. I’m panting like I’m exhausted. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Well it wasn’t me,’ I mutter to myself, forcing back the mental image of me doing exactly that. Coming all over her. Kneeling over her, her arms pinned down, my hand thrusting my cock in her face as she watches. My cum coating her lovely face. And her tongue licking it all up. Fuck! I physically rearrange myself, looking for room in my trousers to accommodate my raging hard-on. There’s no room. Not in these damn things.
‘Something got the better of me.’ She looks up at me. And I can see immediately that she gets it. Even if she doesn’t know me, she gets it. The ridiculously strong attraction was the first stepping-stone to utter fucking perfection. And thank God she’s not misplaced that.