Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
“That’s more than four and they’re all about me.”
“You’re the best fuck of my life, baby.”
I lift myself up and cross my arms on his chest so that I’m looking at his handsome face and his glorious damp hair splaying on the pillow. “You want me to believe I’m better than all the men and women you fucked your way through?”
“They were only physical. They meant nothing.”
“And I do?”
“Baby, you mean fucking everything.”
My heart does that violent thud again and I’d swear he can feel it against his chest, but I don’t care enough to pull away from him.
I tease my fingers over his new tattoo, a sense of raging possessiveness engulfing me. “Good. Because you’re my property, Niko. You have the ink to prove it.”
“And you are mine,” he breathes out with the same intense possessiveness.
He drags my lips to his and we kiss for what seems like an eternity. Then I lift myself enough to retrieve some wet tissues to clean us up before I prop myself back up on his chest.
Nikolai spears his hand beneath his head and watches me with that permanent grin that I’m only privy to.
It slowly disappears and a frown appears on its behalf.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He grabs my wrist and my breathing is cut off when he removes my watch. I don’t stop him, even though every fiber of my being demands I do.
My heart aches when he releases a puff of relief upon seeing I haven’t indulged in my self-destructing habits.
I expect him to let me go, but he strokes his thumb over the scarred skin, and the more he touches me, the harder it is to breathe.
My fucked-up head starts fogging up and I plunge headfirst into the inky lake of my mental state.
I try to pull my hand free, but Nikolai’s firm grip keeps it in place as he gauges my expression.
“Remember the part where you don’t get to hide from me anymore?”
“I don’t think now is a good time…”
He shakes his head and the words get stuck in my throat.
Nikolai’s touch turns softer and his voice becomes more gentle. “Tell me, baby. I just want to understand and help you. If you don’t speak to me, I don’t know where to start.”
“I’m fine—”
“What did I say about that fucking word?”
“I’m really okay now. I’m over it.”
“I’m not sure if you’re lying to me or yourself at this point.”
“Can’t you just let it go?”
“No, I can’t just let it go when it’s a huge part of who you are. Why can’t you tell me? Do you not trust me?”
“No, no, of course I do.” It’s because I trust him so much that I’m scared shitless about his reaction.
He’ll leave you when he knows what you’ve done. Everyone else will see you as the weakling you are.
I swallow past the lump in my throat as that voice hammers inside my head.
“Then why the fuck are you hiding from me?” His voice drips with frustration and I want to erase that, I want to protect him, especially from myself.
Because he shouldn’t love me. I’ll hurt him, even unintentionally, I know I will.
But I offer him something, just a little truth. “Remember when I told you I hate myself?”
He nods, his expression easing, and he goes completely still, as if my words are a ceremony he wouldn’t dare disrupt.
“A long time ago, I did something so fucked up and I never…forgave myself for it. Every time I look in the mirror, I see that version of me, and I can’t stand it. The need to crash and burn it flows inside me every second of every fucking day. That’s also why I stopped drawing people, animals, or anything with eyes. I feel as if they’re my own reflection from the mirror following me everywhere.” I smile with difficulty. “The only reason why I never took a shower with you is because I didn’t want you to witness that version of me whenever I look at the bathroom mirror. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” His voice softens. “Can you tell me what you did to make you feel that way?”
“One day. I just need to get my shit together to be able to talk about it. Can you wait?”
“Absolutely, and, baby?” He kisses the top of my head and his next words nearly give me a heart attack. “Even if you hate yourself, I’ll love you for the both of us.”
34
NIKOLAI
If a few weeks ago someone had told me my lotus flower would be taking me on one date, let alone three, I would’ve called an ambulance.
But here we are on our third date. That’s right. Third. Outside. With people around us. And he’s not panicking.
I stare down at his hand in mine, our fingers intertwined, and I discreetly pinch my nape. That hurts. This is not a fucking dream.