Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
But for now, he was right, this time was for the two of them. No one else.
Not for anger. Not for shame. Not for anything other than sharing the connection they had with each other.
An unexpected connection neither of them could ignore.
He had lost his erection while she explored his body and lost it again when she had revealed the scar on his wrist.
The leather wrist cuff wasn’t for him to look cool or badass but to hide the evidence of a decision he’d been driven to make. She had no idea how old he’d been when he’d attempted to end his suffering, but the scar was faint and, since he was only thirty, he had to have been very young at the time.
Way too young.
The thought of him being forced to make that desperate decision hurt her heart more than the burn scars or the scar that claimed him as someone’s property.
Maybe someone else needed to claim him, someone he was willing to accept. Someone he chose. Someone who wanted him for who he was, not what he was or had been.
He was not an object to own, instead a broken but beautiful soul. She had recognized it the first time he walked through her front door.
So, yes, she still wanted him. Beside Brendan, no one else ever existed who she wanted more.
She could tell him that or she could show him.
Or, better yet, both.
From her seated position, she rose to her knees until they were face to face. This time when she touched him, it wasn’t to follow the path of scars. It was to touch him.
She started with his long hair, made up of varying shades of brown that fit his darker complexion as it curtained his face and ended past his shoulders. It was beautiful and unique just like the rest of him. She combed her fingers through the wild curls, marveling on just how soft and springy they were.
The tips of his small dark nipples were hard, so she leaned into him, sucking on one and then the other as she continued to gently stroke his hair over his warm chest.
She wanted him to feel loved, appreciated and not used.
Cupping his face, she drew him closer, lightly brushing their lips together, running her nose along his, and then going back to his mouth to dip her tongue inside and taste him fully.
Shade was as opposite to Brendan as he could get. The long hair, the dark beard, the tattoos...
Being in the service, Brendan had to be “squared away” with a high and tight haircut and his face smoothly shaven. He never had a desire to get ink. Or if he did, her husband never shared that with Chelle.
Shade was a biker who appeared to live loose and easy, while Brendan lived by the strict rules of the Army.
She found that she didn’t prefer one type of man over the other. She appreciated how each lived their lives in a way that made them happy.
At least, she hoped Shade was now happy after dealing with whatever he had in his past.
She also hoped to make Shade happy tonight.
Deepening the kiss, he took control of it, sweeping his tongue through her mouth. The man knew how to kiss. The way he took her mouth, as if he owned it, stole her breath.
She never realized that kissing could be such a turn-on.
Wrapped around his cock, his hand was stroking the hard length once again. Another surprising turn-on that made her insides warm and her pussy wet.
She grasped the back of his neck, under the fall of his hair, pushing her aching breasts into his chest. With her other arm around his waist, she pressed her palm to the raised lettering at the small of his back.
She whispered, “Mine,” against his lips. Sucking in a breath, he inhaled her claim.
She continued lower until her fingers brushed over his ass, his hip, then followed the angled line of lean muscle to where he stroked. With her hand over his, she murmured, “Also mine.”
She removed his hand from his cock and raised it to her breast. “Yours.” After a heartbeat, she guided it to her pussy where she cupped his fingers in the crux of her thighs. “Also yours.” She was so wet that his middle finger slipped easily inside her. As he worked her gently, she vowed, “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
She didn’t expect him to move as quickly as he did.
He surged forward, taking her with him, until she was flat on her back and he was settled between her legs, kissing her frantically, with his hard, silky length pressed to her inner thigh.
His kissing slowed and, after it completely stopped, he rose to his hands and knees, caging her in but breaking their connection and leaving her bereft by the loss of his touch. Chelle shivered with the intensity of his dark eyes and the seriousness of his expression.