Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
I take ownership of them right here in this moment.
They do apply to me, but only when it comes to this man.
“Whenever you need me,” I purr against his jaw. “I’ll get on my back. Cheap and wet.”
“Ahhh, fuck me. Sugar, sugar, sugar.” His choked rush of breath is like fire beside my temple and the slaps of his flesh into mine grow wild, his body becoming that of an animal…and I love being his prey so much that the lust is swallowing me whole, making my sex pulse in a way that is uncontrollable, primal, a willing victim’s response to being so purely dominated.
“Don’t you dare make this cunt any tighter, do you understand me, Shiloh? I won’t have it spitting my sperm right back out. You’ll take my come deep when I damn well give it to you.” He wraps his hand around my throat, licking the side of my face, jaw to hairline. “Going to shape your belly up nice and round. It’s going to be a shotgun wedding, only I’ll be the one pointing the shotgun. At anyone who gets too close to my girl. Fucking. Mine. Got that? Open your thighs wider if you understand me.”
“I understand,” I whimper, struggling to get my knees open more, more.
That’s right, I’ll let him talk to me like this, possess me any way he wants. Because I know he values me, cherishes me, needs me. He’ll fight my demons and demand respect for me, like he did in the food court. And I love this. I’m craving his filth and the notion that I could become pregnant with his child.
Oh my God. It’s an inevitability at this point. We’re supposed to be as close as it’s possible for two people to be close. I feel that truth everywhere and so does he, it’s evident in his mouth as it rakes up my neck, his lower body moving in a furious rhythm, our slippery sexes colliding in rough insertions that feel so good, so vital, so recklessly horny that everything inside of me seizes up, preparing to release, making him growl my name like a curse.
“Can’t loosen up this fuck hole, no matter what I do,” he shouts behind his teeth. “And I can’t take one more zipper-tight stroke, sugar. I’m coming. Oh fuck! Soak it in, hear me?”
“Yes!”
I latch onto the intensity in his eyes as he watches me, sweat dripping from his brow, his hair mussed and gorgeous as he gives me one final thrust, pitching us over the edge of oblivion together, his face a mask of pure awe, his hips shaking violently between my legs, hot moisture blasting home inside of me, seeping out onto my inner thighs and belly, his roar captured behind a clench of his teeth, his fist tightening briefly but firmly around my throat. We tremble together, gasping, his shaft jerking and jerking inside of me, flooding me endlessly until he drops like a boulder, all his weight pinning me to the car, his breath pelting the moist curve of my neck, my eyes staring unseeingly at the concrete piling above.
“Shiloh,” he breathes, raising his head to look down at me, affection etched into his features.
I reach up to stroke the lines between his brows. “Yes?”
“Eternity.” He kisses me hard, his chest shuddering up and down. “Say it.”
“Eternity,” I breathe against his lips.
And only then does he relax, letting me stroke his hair in the heavy silence of the parking garage, our hearts pounding in tandem.
Chapter
Ten
Blaste
Shiloh and I spend the rest of the day at the lake, which looks the same way it did in my time. Just water, trees, grass and sky. That familiarity relaxes me and we spend the afternoon lying in the grass, side by side facing each other, talking about millions of things, big and small. We speak about Shiloh’s father, the book she’s been dreaming of writing. She recites me lines from the first draft she’s been working on and I find myself eager to read the rest. It’s good. It’s as perfect as she is. I tell her stories about me and my brother getting into trouble and how the ranch operated seventy-four years in the past.
She asks me if I’ve ever had a crush on another girl.
I tell her the truth, which is that I might have felt physical interest in girls during my teens and early twenties, but it was nothing but a water droplet compared with the vast ocean of feeling I have for her. I can’t even remember the names or faces of the romantic prospects who came before. They’re just a dull echo and she’s…unfiltered vibrance.
This is when I make the mistake of asking Shiloh if she ever had a crush.
It makes me realize I should have just said no when she asked me, because the jealousy that hits me like a rockslide is painful and unwelcome.