Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
* * *
Kaiser
* * *
When Bella started crying, I wanted to destroy things. I knew she was overstimulated, that the tears leaking down her cheeks were a release.
But I still wanted to hurt someone for doing this to her. Her father.
She looks at me with real fear that I might storm out of here and shake him down. Because of course she’s afraid of that. I’m the bad guy.
And I’m the reason she’s crying. The scene was intense. I lost control of the predator in me and wanted to punish her for the way she drives me to obsess over her. For the way my skin has been tingling nonstop in her presence.
Bella is my responsibility now. She’s not in control; I am. I need to take care of her because she thinks she has no limits. I need to set the boundaries that she won’t.
Usually, I love the sight of a fucktoy’s tears, but not these. My cock is hard because I’m with her, but I have no desire to fuck her right now. Pain slices through me. It feels like someone slashed me with a knife, but it hurts much worse. I know it’s all in my head, but it doesn’t help.
I want to stab myself for hurting her. It’s a strange feeling, all my violence turning inward. How can someone so small have such power over me?
“Let’s go to bed,” I say, and she sighs, curling into me. She’s still in the harness, but she doesn’t seem to notice it.
I find her wrists and rub the red marks there. I’m a piece of shit. I kiss each fingertip. “You did well tonight. You’re good, so good for me.”
She huffs like she doesn’t believe me.
“You are. It’s my fault it got too intense. I pushed too hard and got carried away.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did. But you did so good for me.”
“Really?” She sounds so lost, it’s breaking my heart. I rub her back.
“Really. And it’s okay to cry. It’s a release.”
She sniffles. I ease her up and unwind the rope harness. I massage her marked skin for a moment and lie back so I can pull her over me. She sighs, settling her weight on me. I can’t feel anything, my skin is still weirdly numb like I’m wearing a layer of armor or latex, but the weight of her body is perfection. I love how she curls into me, pressing her face into my chest. It’s as close to heaven as I’ll ever be.
My dick is poking into her, but I ignore it. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. I run a hand up her back, finding the rope patterns and rubbing to smooth them out.
“It was intense,” she admits.
I stroke her hair, encouraging her to talk. Sometimes I mute her so she gets out of her own head. But right now she needs to process.
It was intense. Too intense. I need to remember she’s still new to all this. But she’s so eager to learn.
“You had a long day.” Our first full day together. The first of many.
She wipes her eyes one last time and finally meets my gaze. Her eyes are red, but she looks so innocent, and I want to kiss her mouth.
I brush back her hair instead. The platinum color illuminates her face. She doesn’t dye her eyebrows, and the contrast between them and the white blonde at her hairline is stunning. It calls attention to her dark eyes.
So much emotion. So much expression. I can read her moods; they’re fast and changeable. Intense like storms.
And never boring. I could study her forever and not get tired of it.
She lets her head drop, going limp against me. I love moments like this, when she’s calm in that way she gets when she comes. I feel like a hero, even though I know I’m the monster in her story.
“Father Francis told me you have questions about me.” Open up, earn her trust.
Her lip quirks in a half-frown. She’s learning that the priest didn’t keep her confidence and that he’s loyal to Fraternitas.
“He said you grew up on the streets. With your twin brother.”
I nod.
“Is that why you trained as a fighter? To escape?”
“I didn’t want to be a fighter. Fighting was the only way to survive. And I ended up being good at it. I had to be.”
“When did you start?”
Memories swirl in my mind. Leviathans in the deep. “Thirteen.”
“No way,” she gasps. “That’s so young.”
I don’t say anything; I’m lost in shadowy memories. Running away with my brother, living on the streets. Finding the underground tunnels where it was warm enough for us to survive the winter. Father Francis feeding us, teaching us. After a few years of that, Jaeger wanted to move into the dorm, but I refused. I was the reason we were hanging around the street fights long enough for Maestro to notice us. I wanted to find a way off the streets without Father Francis’ help. I didn’t trust him.