Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I will,” I responded awkwardly. “Goodnight.”
“It’s so good to have you home, Sariah.” Mom clutched her hands in front of her, her tone telling me, she meant it.
“It’s, uh, good to be home,” I replied. And I realized I meant it too.
“I cannot believe I’m here in my childhood bedroom, sleeping with a boy, and my parents are aware of his presence,” I said, slipping Colby’s tee over my head.
I was trying something... Getting changed in front of him. I still did it quickly, so he only saw a flash of my scars. But he saw them. Because he watched me intently whenever we were in a room together. His jaw didn’t lock, his face didn’t change into a mask of fury. Or worse, revulsion. If anything, hunger sparked in those dark irises of his.
That gave me some increased confidence and niggled at my need to give that last part of myself to him. Trust that with him.
Maybe.
“You didn’t even have to sneak in the window or anything,” I teased, pushing those thoughts away for the moment. We’d already done enough hard things today.
Colby chuckled. “Do I want to know how many boys snuck in that window?”
I glanced at the window, contemplating lying. “No,” I admitted. “You are the only man to see all of this.”
I gestured around the room that was cluttered with books, my Harry Potter box set front and center since that had offended my mother so greatly.
Movie posters from The Lost Boys and Pulp Fiction were pinned up, old Cosmos sat in piles. It was pretty much every piece of pop culture I could get my hands on to outrage parents at the time.
Looking around, it made me feel nostalgic, embarrassed and confused. I’d spent so much time crafting myself into a person who was the exact opposite of them that I didn’t truly know who I was.
“So I’m popping your cherry, then?” Colby’s taunt jerked me out of my thoughts.
I looked over at him. He was sitting propped up in my double bed, shirtless and sinful.
“My cherry is long gone. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that good of a girl.”
“You gonna be my good girl and get into bed with me?” he asked.
My toes curled.
“You’re not gonna fuck me in my childhood bedroom with my obsessively religious parents under the roof.” I folded my arms underneath my boobs. “I think this house repels sex.”
“I am gonna fuck you in the room that no one else has, yeah.”
My thighs pressed together. “I had you pegged as a guy who was too respectful for that.”
“I’m respectful enough,” he snickered. “Me not fucking my woman every single chance I get is disrespectful to both of us.”
I bristled at the ‘my woman’ thing and was about to nip that in the bud, but Colby got sick of waiting, and he knifed up, crawled to the end of the bed, grabbed me by the arm and pulled.
I tumbled down, laying on top of him for a split second before he flipped us, and his tee was no longer covering my body. He’d ripped it up and over my head, twisting it so both my arms were still restrained in the fabric.
My nipples pebbled, and my breathing shallowed. I was already soaking fucking wet.
I barely even thought about the fact that my entire midsection was exposed to him for the first time. I was exposed and vulnerable.
“You gonna be able to be quiet, or do I have to gag you?” he rasped out, mouth inches from mine.
My blood heated at the question. I was never into being gagged. Not even before. Enough people tried to silence me. But suddenly the prospect was … inviting.
Colby’s eyes smoldered. “Yeah, see you want that.” His hand tweaked my nipple.
I let out a restrained moan.
“I’ll gag you.” He kissed my neck. “Tie you to the bed and fuck you so hard that you’ll come until you forget everything but me.”
A low moan crept from my throat as I squirmed against his mock restraints. The restraints might’ve taken me back to that warehouse, where I had no control, where a sadistic man was hovering over me, telling me what he was going to do to me.
They might’ve if the man was anyone but Colby.
As it was, he was redefining what being restrained meant, he was rewriting history, and he was doing it in my childhood bedroom.
His mouth traveled from my neck, down to my nipple. Again, I let out a strangled cry as his lips fastened around it.
I was so wrapped up in need, in pleasure, I didn’t notice his lips had moved down to my abdomen until they were there, grazing my scars.
My body battled against the icy cold feeling that washed over me and the fire that came when Colby’s hand found my pussy, rubbing my clit atop my panties.