Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
This was slow.
Each thrust was lazy but controlled. Each probe of his tongue against mine was cautious but greedy. Each rapid thump of my heart synced perfectly with his, and I understood exactly what he was trying to tell me.
Only me.
I was the only one who got to feel this touch from him.
I was the only one who got to see, feel, breathe, this version of Oliver de Havilland.
Because we felt the same.
The unsaid words clung to us with the same fervour we held each other. They cloyed at my throat, and I kissed him harder to keep them from coming up.
I couldn’t tell him.
I couldn’t tell him that I was in love with him.
I was too scared to.
Even as he held me tightly, fucked me with a gentleness that was foreign to me, kissed and nipped at my neck… I just couldn’t do it.
I bit the inside of my cheek as he rocked inside me, drawing my orgasm to the surface. I was powerless to fight anything, and I clamped down around him, holding him firmly inside me as I let go. My entire body tensed and trembled, and Oliver’s guttural groan against my neck preceded the warmth I felt spill inside me.
Ah.
Ah, what do I do?
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I held him against me. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I’d never felt as loved or special as I did just now, and I hated myself for it.
Hated it because I knew I had to let him go.
Because this… we…
“Stop,” he whispered, kissing the curve of my ear. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop thinking about it, princess.”
“I—”
“Stop.” He pressed his lips to mine, swallowing any argument I had. “Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. For now, let’s clean up, then you can come and fall asleep on me. Yeah?”
“Can we eat first?” I asked quietly. “I haven’t had dinner.”
“Yeah. There’s food downstairs. I’ll make you something.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Pasta good?”
I nodded into his shoulder, lowering my legs from around his waist so he could get up.
We would clean up.
Eat.
Climb into bed.
Fall asleep together.
For what would be the last time.
It had to be.
30
* * *
OLIVER
Final Preparations
She was like an angel when she slept.
Her fiery red hair fanned across the white pillows, and I’d pulled the unruly wavy strands out of my mouth more than once this morning. I would be finding strands of her hair everywhere now for days—long, crinkly red ones would appear seemingly out of nowhere, as if Rose herself was planting them as a never-ending reminder of her presence in my life.
As if I’d ever not notice her.
Her fair eyelashes twitched against her cheeks, and the freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose were like tiny puzzles I couldn’t help but trace with my eyes.
And her lips.
Her soft, full lips, that were currently parted as she breathed.
God, I was so in love with her. Every part of me hummed with desire for her, and I wondered if this would ever be enough. If touching her would ever satiate the need I had for her, that unending want to be close to her.
I wanted to stay here, in this bed, with her in my arms. I wanted to breathe in her raspberry-scented hair and run my fingers over her rough hands as if I could massage out the damage the physicality of her job had done to her pretty skin.
I couldn’t imagine letting her go.
And now, I had a feeling she felt the same. After her outburst yesterday, I’d seen it—that ugly, gnawing jealousy she was holding onto. It was the same as the one I’d felt after I’d seen those videos of her dancing.
I had no idea what pictures she’d seen, but if I knew the way the media spun things, they were undoubtedly in an article speculating about my marital status. As my friends had slowly begun entering relationships, getting married, and having children, attention had naturally come the way of those of us in the upper classes who were still single.
Whether we courted such attention or not.
I most certainly did not.
Maybe that was why I was coming to see Hanbury as my home. Rose was here, and so was peace. This was a place where I could breathe, where I could simply exist as myself without the weight of too many expectations.
It was a place I wanted to be.
A place nobody cared to find me.
A place I would happily stay for the rest of my life if it meant getting to keep Rose by my side.
I glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty. Time to wake her.
I pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of her nose. She didn’t stir, and I moved to her cheek, dotting a soft path of barely-there kisses across her cheek. When she still didn’t move, I took my journey downwards.