Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
He drags his gaze from her to me, jaw tight.
“Open your legs, Allegra,” I tell her.
“Let me go,” she struggles against me, but I felt how wet she was when I touched her while he watched.
“I said open them. Fucking open them. Isn’t that what you fucking want?”
Allegra’s pulling against my grip, the skin around her eyes wet, her body twisting this way and that. Jet moves and my gaze snaps to his when, his eyes locked on me, he sets his hands on her knees—he sets his fucking hands on her knees—and I’m about to lose my mind when he forces them apart and comes to stand between them.
For a moment, for the longest fucking moment, the world stands still, the only sound that of blood roaring in my ears.
“What is it, Cassian? You want to watch me do it? Want to watch me fuck her how you can’t? For old times, maybe.” He grins, eyes narrowed to slits. He’s pushing my buttons.
My vision goes from black to red. My brain rattles against my skull. A murderous instinct takes hold, and I lunge at him. We go crashing against the wall Jet’s head bouncing off it.
I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.
I draw my arm back and Allegra screams. I turn to look at her and Jet takes the advantage, punching me hard in the gut. I double over, but grip his shirt
“You want to make an enemy of me, Cassian?” he asks, fury clear in his tone even as he’s panting.
I push through the pain, shove him backward and press my forearm against his windpipe. “Have you ever been anything but an enemy, Jet?”
My jaw ticks. I stare into shadowed green eyes I thought I knew. We are drawing a line in the sand, Jet and me.
He shoves me backward and glances at Allegra, then back at me.
He snorts, shakes his head. “Fine. Fucking fine. You chose this. Remember that,” he says with an accusing finger pointing at me before he stalks away. I watch him go, watch his back as he walks down the center aisle toward the door, his steps echoing off the stone floor.
Allegra watches him go. I turn to her and when she shifts her gaze to me, her eyes are full of betrayal. I walk around the table, push her knees apart as she sits up, her hands flat against my chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asks.
I grip the back of her head and kiss her even as she pushes against me, even as she uses her teeth to draw blood. It always comes down to blood.
“You’re not his,” I say and I’m not sure if I’m telling her or myself. “You are not his.” I kiss her harder, smashing my mouth against hers.
“I’m not yours either.”
I snort. “Oh, but you are. You are so very mine.”
Her breaths are pants, her knees pressed to my sides. She doesn’t want to want this. Hell, I don’t want to want this. But I do. We both do.
And I’ll have her the only way I can. The only way I should.
I lay her back, leaning over her, kissing her still. She pulls at my shirt, buttons popping, nails clawing and when she can’t unbutton it, she pushes it aside and brings her hands to my skin. I draw back to tear my shirt off, our eyes locked, our breaths gasps as I lay her back down, leaning over her to reach for the bottle of olive oil that’s knocked over, that’s spilling out onto the stone floor.
Her hands are undoing my belt, my pants. Her knees are wide, feet pressed to the edge of the altar. She takes me out and I pour olive oil onto my hand and slide it between her legs, feeling her wet, wanting pussy, dipping my fingers inside before sliding them to that other hole.
She’s confused at first, blinks up at me.
I take one knee and push it back and look down at her, at her wet, gaping pussy, her tiny asshole. I meet her gaze and push one slippery, oily finger inside that hole.
Allegra’s mouth opens on a gasp. “Cassian,” she breathes.
I let out a groan, feeling her heat around my finger. I bend my head to lick her pussy, use my teeth on her clit as I slide a second finger into her ass.
“I fucking… God. I fucking hate you.” Her fingers are pulling at my hair as she raises her pussy up into my face.
I draw back. Not yet. Not yet. I meet her eyes as I slide my hand over my cock, lubricating it before bringing it to her asshole.
She pants hard, eyes panicked, understanding how I’m going to take her.
“Push against me,” I tell her, because I need to be inside her, and I don’t want to hurt her and I can’t fuck her pussy. I can’t risk it. “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard you forget how much you hate me,” I tell her, pushing the head of my cock into her tight entrance.