Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
His hands shake as he tugs my pants off my hips and then down my legs, leaving my simple white panties in place. My pants follow my hoodie over the side of the bed. He looks me over from head to toe then, his gaze not missing a single thing. Not the cigarette burns on my thighs or the belt scars across my stomach. Not the large burn on my abdomen, the mostly healed cuts on my palms, or the knots from the bones my mother broke in a drunken rage and then left to heal without medical intervention. Not even the way my ribs stick out where I'm too skinny or my knobby knees go undocumented by his incredible mind.
"You're perfect," he whispers, meeting my gaze when he's done memorizing my body. Desire burns like a living flame in his dark eyes, scorching me with need. "Dios, Faith. You're so damn perfect."
And when he falls beside me before pulling me into his arms and wrapping his big body around mine…for the first time in my life, I feel beautiful.
I wake in the middle of the night with the lamp still on and Octavio wrapped around me, one hand splayed possessively over my hip. His fingers rest centimeters from my sex. The other hand cups my naked breast, his rough palm abrading my nipple in the most delicious way. Energy hums to life between our bodies, searing into me everywhere his hard body cradles my softer frame.
I shift restlessly, trying to ease the ache between my legs, but it doesn't help.
"Angel," he mumbles, pulling me closer. His lips touch the back of my neck, his hand tightening on my hip. A sleepy growl vibrates his chest. "You smell so damn good."
I'm not sure if he's awake or asleep, but one part of him is definitely not sleeping. His erection presses into my ass, hard and insistent. I bite back a moan, shameless desire coursing through my veins. I've never been this close to a man before. Even when I slept in his bed previously, we were both fully clothed, and he didn't hold me like this. But I've seen men's bodies before. It's hard to live among the Bratva, where inhibition-lowering drugs and alcohol flow freely, without seeing how they are with women, but Octavio seems…massive compared to what I've seen.
I push my hips backward, trying to get closer to that hard part of him. Trying to see if it's really as big as the rest of him.
It is.
My stomach clenches, a wave of heat rolling through me like a hot breeze. I shift my legs again, but the ache between them only grows larger, more insistent.
Octavio's hand slides down my hip, moving closer to my center. My breath freezes in my lungs in anticipation of him touching me where no one ever has before.
"Are you wet between your legs for me, conejita?" he whispers, letting me know he's very much awake. His voice is gritty and rough, like sandpaper. I love it. "Were you dreaming about me?"
I open my mouth to tell him yes to both questions, but the only sound that emerges from between my lips is a needy whine. My entire body is on fire, flames licking at my skin. I've never felt like this before. It's pleasure and pain, and I know instinctively that he's the only one who can make it stop. But I don't know how to ask him to help ease the ache.
"You were saying my name in your sleep," he rumbles, kissing his way up the back of my neck to my ear. His palm rakes against my nipple before he rolls it between two fingers, making me moan out loud. "I want to hear you say my name like that now that you're awake. Tell me what I was doing to you in your dreams."
"Octavio." My cheeks flush, my tongue refusing to cooperate with his command.
"Tell me," he whispers, flicking his tongue against my earlobe.
"T-touching me. You were touching me."
"Like this?" He pinches my nipple between his fingers, rolling it again.
My stomach clenches, as if my nipple is directly tied to some pleasure center deep in my womb, and I cry out.
"Or like this?" His rough palm slides across my lower belly and then between my legs, cupping me over my panties. He groans, the sound loud and needy. "Dios, your panties are soaked. Poor little bunny," he whispers, kissing a path down the side of my neck. His teeth sink into a tendon there, making me cry out again. "You're hurting for me, aren't you?"
"Octavio," I gasp, wriggling to get his hand where I need it. It's so close, but it's not enough. I need something. I need…more. A frustrated sob climbs up my throat. "Please."
"Shh, bebé. I'll take care of you. I'll make you feel so good." His finger runs along the seam of my panties, putting pressure where I need it most.