Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Yes. Please,” I reply breathily. God, there’s nothing in the world I want to feel more than him filling me up.
He bottoms out repeatedly, thrusting into me so hard and far that I’m not sure if I’m coming again or if it’s just another blissful extension, but it feels so fucking amazing. He groans out one of those sexy, strangled, manly groans, and his whole body groans with him, jerking and spasming inside me. I’m fire, heat, and wetness inside. His cock kicks against my walls long after his muscles stop quaking, and I stop trembling.
He leans forward on me, and we rest our foreheads together. “That was…”
“Epic,” I finish. “Nearly perfect.”
“Nearly?”
“Just never call me baby again.”
He snorts and cracks another smile that is so pretty it’s like staring straight into the sun after days and days of endless clouds, rain, and that dreary weather blah feeling. “And here I was worried you had complaints of a different nature.”
I wriggle out from under him, pleased when he gives me a huge bear hug and pretty much wrestles us both into the bed. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s late. I couldn’t sleep before, but now, after talking and having the best orgasm of my life, I could probably sleep.
But here in this bed?
I freeze in Thorn’s arms. I’m squashed up against his chest. His body is a straight-up furnace, and the mattress and sheets feel like they’re made of clouds and well-spun amazingness.
“I should go back to my own bed,” I mutter.
“Are you sure?”
I’m not. I’m not sure about any of this. I’m waiting for him to tell me no.
“If you don’t like this one, we can go to your room. Will Peach Lips join us? Are you worried she’ll wake up and have no idea where you are?”
“She’ll find me. She always does. I just…I’m not sure that… This is your bed. Are you comfortable with us being in here?”
He nuzzles his nose into my hair and inhales my scent, which is both sweet and feral. It spikes my blood pressure.
“I’m comfortable.”
Right. It’s just one night. Just this one time. That’s what we both agreed on. With the way Thorn’s wrapped himself around me, I feel like the flower that all those prickles are there to protect. I’ve never been safer in my life, I’m sure. The heat of him lulls me into an almost comatose state. I never would have pegged this man for a cuddler, but he’s good at it. He gives good hugs, good warmth, and a good rock-solid chest and huge limbs that are draped all around me in exactly the right way, so they aren’t doing any crushing.
He gives good afterglow.
He’s so much more than I thought, and I was so wrong about him.
Our lives don’t fit together the way our bodies do, and it causes a wave of sadness to crash over me, but I close my eyes and let it drift away with everything else, feeling warm and content, safe and alive, and sated and happy in this moment.
Chapter thirteen
Thorn
The sun is bright and warm in the bedroom when I crack an eyelid.
I’m in my bed, sans clothing, which is not how I sleep nor where I should be sleeping.
I remember in an instant why I’m in the house and not at the office. I’m facing the wall, but I turn as gently as I can so I don’t disturb—
She’s not here.
I shoot out of bed. The sheets aren’t even peeled back. The comforter is rumpled. I still have my phone in my pants pocket, and I check the time. 9.28 a.m.
Jesus. I never sleep past five or five-thirty.
Ephemeral talked about leaving, but has she? Will she? We talked last night, but I want to talk to her more. I want to do all the talking with her. I want to hear her truths and share things I wouldn’t ever consider telling anyone else. She made me see so clearly what I’ve been blind to. I want to find her and thank her, kiss her good morning, make her breakfast, and call my mom and book a trip there to tell her and my brothers that I’m so sorry for all this wasted time. Sorry that I thought money could make anything better and for thinking they might prefer it over me. Sorry for shoving my head up between my arse cheeks and trying to function with it locked in place there.
I rush out of the bedroom like a fire is lit under me, roasting my backside into high gear. I’m not even thinking about work. Normally, that would be my first thought. How many meetings did I miss? Is the place falling apart? What catastrophes need to be fixed? But this morning, all I feel is a chest now curiously full to bursting, even though it was so empty just a few weeks ago.