Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Because I think it would mean Noah and I are dead. Or at least Noah is, if you are.”
“And here I thought you were concerned for me,” I say lightly. I didn’t, did I? I sit on my bed, lie back against the headboard and peel off the bandage. I’d do it myself but with my shoulder, it makes it tough.
“Let me help,” she says and comes over.
“You don’t have a sadistic side, do you?”
She shrugs, looks at the stitches and makes a face.
“Looks worse than it is. Put some of that ointment on it then you can bandage it again and we can get on with things.”
“Get on with things,” she says, walking into the bathroom. I hear the water go on and a moment later she’s back drying her hands. “What sort of things?” She picks up the ointment, reads the label and gives me a grin. “This is going to sting.”
“It’s going to sting like a mother fucker but you’re going to do it.”
“Oh, I never said I wasn’t,” she smiles wide and makes a move so unexpected, it takes me by surprise. She climbs up on the bed and straddles me.
“Don’t move.”
Fuck. Me.
She squeezes a generous amount of ointment onto her fingers and extends her arm to my side. I grab hold of her wrist before she touches me. “Gentle. Understand? You look like you’re going to enjoy this too much for my liking.”
“What’s the matter, Cristiano? Afraid of a little pain?”
“You just told me you were glad I didn’t die,” I say, loosening my hold but not letting her go, bracing myself because this is definitely going to hurt.
But I owe her this. I glance to the nightstand where the ring box sits.
I hiss when she smears the stuff on the too tender skin.
She meets my gaze and holds it as she smears it on a little harder than she needs to.
“Take it easy.”
Her smile widens at my discomfort. “Aww. What is it?” She tilts her head, pouts, eyes going all big. “The big bad wolf is just a helpless little pup when it hurts?”
I grin. She’s sparring, my Little Kitten. That’s good. I reach up with my good hand to take hold of the hair at the back of her head. It’s pretty much fallen out of its braid and still damp from her shower.
“You like this, don’t you, Little Kitten? Me at your mercy?” I squeeze my hand in her hair when she pushes her fingers against the stiches.
“I do like it,” she says, her eyes narrowed, almost glowing in the moonlight.
“You’re very pretty, Scarlett.” I pull her a little closer. “And you know what else?”
“What?” she asks, her confidence melting just a little.
“Your sadistic side is getting my dick hard.”
Her hand stops moving and she blinks a few times, realizing what it is she’s straddling. I try not to laugh, but it just pisses her off that much more when she sees my attempt to hide my amusement.
“Fuck you! Do it yourself!” She starts to climb off me, but I tug her back.
“All right. Sorry. I’ll stop.”
Her eyes narrow and she sets her other hand on my bad shoulder. “You think you’ll still be hard when I dislocate your shoulder again?”
“Truce. I’m just having some fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had fun.”
“I’m not sure this is the time.” She settles back down and focuses on smearing ointment again.
It’s quiet for a long moment while I just watch her. She is concentrating, thinking.
“My uncle said something.” She only glances at me momentarily when she says it.
“Are you wearing underwear, Scarlett?” I ask, not wanting to talk about her uncle.
Her eyes flash up to mine then away. “None of your business.”
I glance down to the exposed skin of her shoulder, the swell of one breast. My shirt is so big on her that it has slid down her shoulder. The way she’s got herself situated to avoid my dick, another inch and her pussy will be eye level.
I look at her eyes again. A deep caramel when she’s aroused. And she is aroused. I see it in the way her nipples poke against the shirt. Smell it in the musk between us. And see it in her eyes.
I pull her closer and I don’t care that when she resists, she leans her slight weight into my wound. I want her mouth more than I care about the pain.
“Don’t you want to know what my uncle told me?” she asks when her mouth is an inch from mine.
“Not really,” I say, pulling her to me, kissing her.
“I’ll bite,” she threatens, the words muffled when I don’t let her pull away.
I draw back a little just so she sees me. “I hope you’ll do more than that, Little Kitten.” I kiss her again, prying her lips open, and, true to her word, sharp little teeth pierce my lower lip. I taste the copper of blood and moan against her mouth. Squeezing her wrist and shifting our position, I topple her onto the bed and pin her down with my weight, trapping one of her arms to the side and taking the pain of her fingernails on the other as they dig into my shoulder.