Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Except the thought feels like a lead bullet hitting my flesh, and I’ve had enough of that in my life. For the first time, the armor is coming off. With that thought, I turn the faucet off, and a terrifying shift settles deep in my chest. If my sister could see me now, she’d laugh her ass off: hands shaking, head a damn mess, yet feeling lighter than I ever have before.
I grab the black towel, drag it along my skin with swiftness before wrapping it around my waist. The mirror is completely fogged over, and even as I wipe away the condensation with my palm to reveal my reflection, what stares back at me is a man with dark eyes still fierce, carrying the shadows of a past that won’t ever leave me.
“Rafe.” My hands are rested on the countertop when I hear my name. I look up and see Seraphina staring back at me. I didn’t bother shutting the door, so she sees me, all of me—the scarring on my upper back, a healed bullet wound a few inches away from my spine on the lower side, and that doesn’t include the scars I wear inside of my body. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in on you. The meeting you requested is set to start in twenty minutes.” That seals it. We’re not going back to me just being her boss. She’s mine, and I’m going to prove it in every way possible, starting right fucking now.
7
SERAPHINA
Iwaited as long as I could. The clock is ticking, and the time is winding down. What I didn’t expect is the man looking deep into my eyes, body on full display, arms crossed over his chest, skin dewy wet, and a look of hunger written all over his face. The scars littering his back didn’t surprise me, nor does the tattoo he has covering half of his upper body.
“Seraphina.” There’s a low lazy tilt to my name. His upper lip tugs upward, and my eyes continue their path down the length of him. A slight smattering of hair leads below the towel, to a perfect outline of the biggest and longest bulge I’ve ever felt or seen before.
“Rafe.” I breathe his name, unable to stop the desire seeping into the two syllables. He pushes off the counter and takes a step toward me, his towel dipping dangerously low on his hips. His arms drop, revealing more of the jagged, silvery scars across his ribs. Fierce, beautiful, utterly lethal, exactly like the man wearing them.
“Say it again.” He crosses the tile floor with a slow, predatory force. My brain isn’t catching up to the fact that his sights are set on me. For weeks, he’s kept me at arm’s length
“Rafe.” He doesn’t give me another moment, not to speak, breathe, or retreat. Before my brain can register what he is doing, his large, warm hands clamp around my waist. Then Rafe pulls me forward, lifting me slighty until I’m flush against his chest, then shutting the bathroom door behind me with a soft, distinctive click.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his chin dipping before his lips land on mine. Senseless is the only word that comes to mind. Our kiss is bruising, possessive, and breath-stealing. Rafe tangles one hand in my hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my head back to angle his mouth perfectly over mine. When I gasp, his tongue slips inside, a demanding stroke, tasting me fully and quieting my whimpers of surprise. My heart hammers as he deepens our kiss, turning feral and hungry.
My hands slide along his damp skin until I’m digging into his chest. He molds me tighter against his body, and I feel him, all of him. The undeniable hard length of his cock burns through the towel and the thin fabric of my pencil skirt. A desperate ache burns low in my belly, and instead of pulling back, I move against him. One of his hands catches the back of my thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist. I roll my hips forward, chasing the much-needed friction, desperate to be closer.
“Sera.” My shortened name is a low growl. He pins me against the heavy wooden door with the weight of his lower body, making sure I can feel every delicious inch. Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to tug his towel off, slide my panties to the side, and feel him deep inside of me. And he knows what he’s doing. While my hips may be working, his are doing much the same, grinding himself against me, not holding back in the slightest.
My fingers grip his shoulders harder, nails digging into his skin as a helpless gasp slips from my throat. Much like earlier, he drinks the sound down greedily before his lips leave mine to trail a path down my jawline, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. Rafe’s hot breath makes me shiver harder as he shifts his hips against mine once more, a silent, tortuous promise of an orgasm right on the surface.