Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Shoving my cock down her throat one last time, I hold it longer than usual, and she pushes her hips up in the air, her body fighting to breathe.
I don’t give her a warning when I pull out, grip my dick, and come all over her face.
We’re lying in bed with the TV on, but the volume is low. After I came on her face, I cleaned her off, and we crawled back into bed, both satisfied for now.
She’s insatiable. I give it an hour before she wants me to fuck her again. To remind her who owns her.
I’m on my side and she’s on her back, eyes closed, but I know she’s not asleep. My hand rests on her chest, feeling the slow rhythm of her heart beating. I run it down over her stomach and to her hips. My eyes stay on her face as I touch her butterfly tattoo. Her eyes spring open and instantly find mine. She said that Cross gave it to her while she was in Las Vegas. She hasn’t told me, but it’s easy to assume it was to cover up the 111 carved into her hip that I saw on the Isabella that night.
“Why a butterfly?” I ask with her eyes still on mine.
“It’s stupid,” she whispers.
“Doubtful,” I argue. “Tell me. Why a butterfly?”
She looks away to stare at the ceiling. “They represent change. A new beginning. I wanted a different life for so long. Bill gave me that opportunity. I promised myself I would never try and take my life again.”
“There’s nothing stupid about that,” I tell her.
Eve laughs softly and I frown. “After I got it, I went back to my place and cried. I thought it would give me hope. Make me someone I wasn’t. It didn’t. All it did was cover up the truth.”
“And what was that?” I wonder, tracing the dark wings.
“That I was a worthless whore.”
My fingers pause, and my teeth grind at her answer. “That’s not true,” I growl, meeting her stare.
“No matter what I try to cover up, the truth was always going to be there. You can’t erase your past. No matter how bad you want to.”
“The truth…” I pause and watch her eyes grow large with worry about what I’m going to say. “The truth is that you’re a survivor, Eve. There is nothing stupid or worthless about that.”
Looking away, she swallows. Taking a deep breath, her eyes find mine again when she speaks. “Have you ever felt free?”
I tilt my head at the change of the conversation. “Free?”
She licks her lips. “The first time I ever felt free was the night on the Isabella. For two weeks before the party, Evan wouldn’t allow anyone to touch me. It was a dream, really. No beatings, no toys, no sex.” A smile tugs at her lips. “He wanted time for my bruises to heal. I had to be the perfect doll.” She looks away. “Anyway, that morning we flew to New York. A woman came in to do my hair and makeup. I was given a dress to wear. I felt like a princess. I was speechless. The yacht took my breath away. The ocean was endless. It was breathtaking. The sun on my face. It was the first time I was allowed to drink alcohol.” My hand slides up to cup her face, and she turns slightly to look at me. “I saw you standing there and thought, Wouldn’t it be nice to talk to a stranger? To have a conversation with someone who didn’t want to fuck me?”
I swallow because that’s exactly what I had thought when I was with Saint and saw her on the deck.
“I wanted to jump off the yacht and swim in the ocean, but I didn’t know how to swim then.” She laughs at herself. “I imagined that I was there with my husband—a Lord who wanted to show me off to his colleagues, knowing I’d be going home with him. No one would touch me. No one would hit me, and no one would rape me.” She swallows. “And when I saw you again, I had to speak to you. Then, like a trained whore, I threw myself at you…”
“Stop, Eve,” I interrupt her. “Stop being so hard on yourself.” She didn’t know any better.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I…I just wanted someone to notice me.”
“I did,” I tell her, and she looks away from me. “Did he hurt you?” Her eyes find mine once more. “After you left the room? Did Evan hurt you because of me?” I already know the answer to this because Bill told us she was beaten when he found her. And if I’ve got the timeline right, he didn’t save her until after the party on the Isabella.