Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Killian squeezes my hand. “Candy cane-flavored condoms? Gingerbread lube?” He frowns. “Wait. No. I don’t want ginger anywhere near my ass. Seriously though. You’re really getting me all that stuff?”
I grin and pull him close with one arm. I love the way he fits there so neatly, as if we’re made to complement one another. “I’ll spare no expense on my husband,” I tell him, heading for the perfumery my mother likes. Some of her favorite cosmetics are often sold out, so I plan to purchase them first. “And there really is no need for condoms. I had your blood taken and tested when you were out. All results came back negative.”
His face loses the confident smirk in favor of an expression so lost it makes him seem innocent despite the kohl around his eyes. I rather like him looking so honest. It makes my blood pump faster to know I have such power over him.
“Oh. I… g-good to know I guess.” He also needs a hat, but in the meantime, I get to enjoy seeing the tips of his ears go red.
“I am a gentleman, so I got tested too, and I can also show you my results, if you wish, but I am confident that you can’t wait to be filled up with cum,” I say, letting my fingers squeeze his nape.
Kill bites his lip, reminding me what a good boy he was on the plane, sucking me off as if his life depended on it. Such a pretty mouth. “Am I that easy to read?” He looks up into my eyes, and I’m once more struck by how handsome he is. In daylight, it’s plain to see. His cheeks have a bit of roundness and I want to pinch them, but the snake tattoo, opening its jaws on his neck reminds me Kill is no blushing flower.
But I shall wait with any pinching and instead focus on showing him what he’d be giving up if he tried to flee.
He follows my lead so pliantly that steering him off course requires no strength whatsoever. He’s standing with his back against the wall, and I’m leaning over him, my hand squeezing his neck just enough to give his eyes a new shine. I’m not afraid of his ink.
This boy likes to play with danger and I’m glad to be the flame. “I chose you for a reason.”
“A little horny, a little stupid?” he asks as his fingers cover the hand I have over his throat. If we didn’t have so much to do, I would take him back to the car and fuck him there. It’s been a while that I’ve gotten so obsessed with someone this fast. But are my feelings really about him, or the absolute power I have in this relationship?
I shrug. “I don’t know about stupid, but I am definitely horny whenever I look at you. Can’t wait to take you to our marital bed.” With that, I swipe my finger across the full mouth I know can do magical things to my dick. When he sucks in the tip of my thumb, I know it’s time to move, or we’ll never make it in time for dinner at my family’s home. I pull him out of our secluded spot, and we walk past a few shops until we reach our destination, Jardin de Oud. They have a men’s section, but based on the delicate aroma of flowers clinging to Kill when I first met him, I’m guessing he might like some of their women’s perfume.
I nudge him inside. “Go on, go smell everything and choose a few favorites, I need to ask my mother what she wants me to get her.”
Kill gives me an uncertain look. “‘A few’? As in more than one perfume?”
“Yes, if you want. Then you can choose some cosmetics in those scents as well.”
Killian nods slowly, and then disappears inside.
I want to deal with my mother’s huge order via text message, but instead of replying like a normal person, she calls me, and I have to endure a tirade about the new clean eating thing she’s into before we get down to business. In the end, she does promise to text me her order, so I say my goodbyes and step into the store.
Stylized to resemble Victorian apothecaries, it has walls covered with ornamental ceramic tiles and fitted cabinets of dark, oiled wood. An antique-looking taxidermy depicting a pair of hares is the centerpiece in the middle of a large table at the front of the store, but I don’t get to see where Kill is, because I’m accosted by the manager.
“Mr. Van der Horn, welcome! We are always delighted to have you,” she says and offers me the tiniest bow. “I hope your mother is well?”
My phone pings, and I open the photo of a hand-written shopping list. “She… actually asked me to fetch some things for her. If you could find all those for me?”