Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I’ll be a little sore, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. My skin feels like it’s buzzing. All in all, I’m pretty blissed out.”
I feel him grin against my hair, and he tightens his hold on me.
“Those are good things.”
I boost up on my elbow so I can see his face. “I don’t mind intense, rough sex. Although I can’t say that I’ve ever had it.”
His eyes narrow on me.
“Um, I don’t think you want to know—”
“I want to know.” His thumb brushes over my lips.
“My experiences are pretty vanilla. Soft. Like I’m fragile. But I’m not.”
He smiles and licks his lips, and I wonder if he can still taste me there. “No. You’re not fragile.”
“But I don’t want to call you sir if it’s all the same to you.”
That makes him laugh, and he rolls me onto my back, where he rakes his fingers through my hair. “No, I’m not a Dominant. I just have controlling tendencies in the bedroom. I like to be the one in charge. And yeah, sometimes I like it rough.”
“Brilliant.”
I’m awake. The sun isn’t up yet, but Beckett moves behind me. He’s still wrapped around me, his front to my back, and he’s holding me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear, but he’s awake.
He brushes his lips against the back of my head, takes a deep breath, and tightens his arms around me in a hug.
Then he’s gone.
He rolls away and pads into the attached bathroom, silently closing the door before the light comes on.
I take a look at the time and see that it’s before five. My gods, we were up well into the night, talking and having all kinds of intense, amazing sex, so how his internal clock woke him up this early, I’ll never know.
It’s soothing to listen to Beckett go through his morning routine. I hear the water run, the toilet flush, and then the light goes out, and he crosses the room to what I assume is the closet.
I can see him from the ambient light of the moon coming through the windows, and a few moments later, he emerges in jeans and a clean black T-shirt.
“It’s early,” I say. He stops in his tracks, then immediately climbs onto the bed behind me and wraps me tightly in his arms once more.
God, nothing in the world feels this good. I’m not entirely sure it should be legal to feel like this.
“I have to go to the barn for a while,” he whispers, brushing his lips against my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.
“You didn’t get much sleep.”
“You’re worth every second, baby.” He kisses my neck, then my cheek. “Go back to sleep for a while. I’ll make breakfast when I get back. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.”
I twist around so I can see his face and wrap my arms around him.
“Your bed is comfortable. I suppose I could sleep some more.”
“Good.” He presses a sweet kiss to my lips and nudges my nose with his. “Rest. Stay cozy. I’ll see you in a bit.”
But he doesn’t leave. He tucks my head under his chin and hugs me close, and I can’t help but moan at how good it feels to be in this warm bed with Beckett wrapped around me.
“I thought you had to work.”
He chuckles, making his chest shake against my cheek. “I do. I’m going.”
With one last kiss on my head, he rolls away and strolls out the door. When I hear the back door downstairs open and close, I get up to use the bathroom myself, then hurry back to bed. Riley follows, jumps up, and snuggles me, and I slip back to sleep.
When I wake again, the sun is up, and I stretch over to check the time.
I got another hour and a half of sleep.
“We should get up,” I say to Riley as I scratch him on the head. “Come on, big boy. Did you sleep well, then? You sure did snore your heart out.”
I climb out of bed and slip on some clean jeans and a jumper, twist my hair back into a long braid, then lead Riley downstairs.
“You stay close,” I warn him as I let him out the back door to do his business. I watch him closely, making sure he doesn’t venture too far or get distracted by wildlife. He never has before, but these are new surroundings for him.
But my boy is solid, coming right back to me after relieving himself, and we return to the kitchen.
“Beck had to go to work early, so we should make him breakfast,” I inform the canine as I fill his food dish and set it out for him. Then I take stock of what Beck has in the fridge and pantry.
The man has a little bit of everything. This isn’t a bachelor’s kitchen, with just beer and chips. He obviously cooks for himself often.