Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
The reverent endearment goes straight to my head, and I capture her lips in a desperate kiss. I set her down on our bed and immediately cover her naked body with my own. I grab her slender wrists and pin them above her head with one hand. My free hand dips between us, finding the tight buds of her nipples.
She mewls into my mouth and tugs against the shackle of my firm grip, but I show no mercy. I pinch and tug at her nipples, tormenting them in the way she likes best. She grinds her hips against me, wantonly seeking stimulation against my thigh. I wedge it between her legs, welcoming her to rub against me like my needy little pet.
My tongue plunders her hot mouth, savoring every desperate whimper and low, sensual moan. With each cruel pinch on her nipples, her willowy body coils tighter beneath me. She presses her clit against my thigh and cries out.
I don’t rebuke her for the orgasm. I love how greedy she is, and seeing her embrace her sexual nature after everything she’s been through is the greatest satisfaction I’ve ever known. This strong, brave woman has chosen to give herself to me. And that makes me the most powerful, luckiest man in the world.
“Please,” she pants against my lips. “I need you. Fuck me.”
“How can I deny you anything?” I rumble, dropping tender kisses down the column of her throat.
“You can’t,” she says in a smug, breathy whisper. “You’re mine, Dane Graham.”
“Oh yes,” I agree, lining my hard cock up with her slick opening. She’s already wet and more than ready for me. “All yours, little dove.”
As I declare her ownership of me, my fingers wrap around her neck, squeezing gently. Her lovely lips part on a soft, erotic gasp, and her aquamarine eyes shine with devotion as she looks up at me.
“I love you.” I seal my promise with a harsh thrust, spearing her to the hilt.
My love for her makes my heart ache with a throbbing beat. It’s so strong that the vital organ threatens to burst, but I would gladly ruin every part of myself just to be with her.
“I love you,” she promises in return.
I increase the pressure on her arteries, restricting her blood flow to grant her the ecstatic high she craves. She begins to soften beneath me, and I claim her pliant body in ruthless, deep strokes. Her legs lock around my hips, her heels digging into my ass to spur me on.
Pleasure gathers at the base of my spine, and I release her throat. Oxygenated blood rushes back to her brain, and she flies apart on a blissful scream. Her cunt contracts around my cock, and I surrender to the torrent of my own pleasure. My rough shout fills our bedroom as I pump my cum deep inside her, marking her.
Before I met Abigail, I didn’t think I possessed a soul. But now I know that mine belongs to her. It might be black—selfish and more than a little cruel—but it’s hers.
And she’s offered me all of herself in return.
My miracle. My wife.
My Abigail.
24
ABIGAIL
Two days later
“Ican’t believe we’re in Whitby!” I exclaim, twirling on the spot so that I can take in a full view of my surroundings.
The ruins of the famous abbey on the clifftop are every bit as gothic and atmospheric as I always imagined. It’s overcast, but it’s not raining. Beneath the gray sky, the grass is such a vibrant green that it’s almost otherworldly. There’s an eerie quality to the midmorning light that glows through the dense clouds, and I can’t wait to try to capture it at my easel.
“Sorry about the weather,” Dane apologizes. “It’s England.”
I stare out at the heavy fog that completely obscures the beach and North Sea, and I let out a happy sigh.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” I declare.
Back in Charleston, Uncle Jeffrey’s death is all over the news. There’s wild speculation that he either drank himself into a stupor or started the fire on purpose.
No one has suggested murder, so it seems Dane did a thorough job of coving up what I did.
In any case, I’m more than happy to be out of town until it all blows over.
“The weather is perfect,” I say. “Everything about this place is perfect.”
He shakes his head. “Its…soupy.”
“I want to walk in it.”
I’ve never seen such thick fog. It almost looks velvety, and the prospect of feeling it on my skin calls to me like a siren’s song.
He gestures out at the beach, incredulous. “In the fog? At least we can see three feet ahead of us up here on the cliff. Don’t you want to explore the abbey?”
I grab his hand and lead him toward the steps down into town. “We can come back to the abbey. We’re here for the whole week, right?”