Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He crosses his arms, staring at me with a raised eyebrow. “Drown a fucking kitten? Really?”
“Why do I have to get stuck with you anyway? I want Caleb back. He’s nice. He’s the only person in this house that isn’t a total bloody psycho!”
He taps his foot over the floor as he narrows his gaze on me. “Is this some hormonal female shit? Get that shit under control, would you?” Oh, he did not.
“You!” I scream, crawling onto my knees and moving to the edge of the bed. “Fuck you!” I stab a finger against his bare chest. My boobs are brushing against his stomach, and his eyes instantly drop to my chest. His lips pull up in a smirk, which makes me even more irate. He makes me so bloody angry. I slap his chest, the sound ricocheting around the room.
His eyes narrow, the only warning I get before he grabs my wrists and pushes me back on the bed, pinning my hands above my head. He kneels over me, his face inches from mine. “You done yet?” He growls. I don’t answer him. “I would have thought you’d have learned by now not to slap me.” He comes even closer to me. “Don’t fucking do it again.” His voice is a deep rumble that has my skin breaking out in goose bumps, even as it feels like I’m over-heating.
“Or what?” I challenge, before I can even stop myself.
He growls, and one by one the fingers of his free hand move around my throat. He stares at me, his breathing ragged. “Don’t test me, Tor.”
There’s a moment of silence. A moment where I should be scared. A moment where I should apologise, try and get him off me, but I don’t. I don’t, because some warped part of me wants Jude. A dark, twisted corner of my mind revels in the danger that he represents and rises to the challenge. I’m all too aware of how wrong that is. I have lost everything, and in having nothing to lose, the danger he promises has become an adrenaline shot to my broken and dying soul.
His thumb brushes against my skin as his eyes lock with mine. I can feel his even breath on my lips, his warm fingers tightening around my throat. “Or maybe you want to test me? You like being strangled, Tor?” His voice is husky and raw, sex, laced with danger and possibility.
His lips are so close to mine. My eyes flick to his mouth as a blush creeps over my cheeks. I can remember the way his lips felt on mine last night, his teeth nipping at my throat, his tongue skimming my lips. Our eyes lock, and I watch as that familiar volatile anger gives way to a very male lust. My pulse skitters wildly as he releases my throat and grips my jaw, tracing his thumb over my bottom lip. “You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured these lips wrapped around my cock,” he grates.
I should be repulsed. I should be offended, but I’m not. My breath hitches and my lips part as I try to drag more oxygen into my ailing lungs. A small smile pulls at his lips before he leans forward, his lips brushing mine as he talks. “I want to corrupt all this innocence right here.”
And I want him to corrupt me.
I can’t take his teasing. I move, pressing my lips against his like the wanton slut that I’ve apparently become. He releases my chin, his fingers winding into my hair and pulling at the roots hard as his tongue dives into my mouth. My back bows off the bed, trying to get closer to him as my legs spread shamelessly, inviting him between them.
He releases my wrists, moving down my arm and over my body, leaving a trail of fire. His teeth nip at my lip, leaving a sting. I moan against his mouth and he lets out a throaty chuckle as he grabs my knee, hitching it over his hip. He rolls his hips, grinding his hard cock against my pussy, and even the thin pair of lace knickers I’m wearing feel like a fucking chastity belt right now. His lips, his hands, his cock; he uses every weapon in his arsenal to wind me so tight that I’m sure I’m going to snap.
My hands work over his chest, his back, his arms, clawing at the thick muscles. I want more. I need more. He rolls his hips again and my nails dig into his skin, making him hiss.
“You want me?” he rumbles.
I can barely form words. “Yes,” I choke out.
“Then fucking beg me for it, Tor,” he growls against my ear.
“Please,” I moan like a dirty whore.
I can’t see his lips, but I can tell from his eyes he’s smiling. “Please what, doll?” His voice is a mixture of lust and amusement.