Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Or so she thinks.
Her lashes flicker closed as I stand, her bottom lip trembling. I press my mouth to the corner of her eye, and one salty tear transfers to my mouth. “Hush now.”
She nods but doesn’t reply, choking back the things she might say as she lifts her hand to my neck.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” I whisper as I brush my thumb across the wing of her collarbone. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
“Yes, let’s do that.” Her chest moves once with some semblance of a laugh, the words lazy and long.
“Then I’m going to take you into the bedroom and start again. From the tips of your toes to the top of your head, I’m going to worship you, Mila.”
Her lashes flutter, her eyes dark inky pools. But she says nothing.
“You’re going to cry out my name so the whole resort knows who you belong to. And when you’re back in London—”
Her finger finds my mouth. I bite the tip in admonishment.
“When you’re back in London, you’ll think about me. You’ll remember the way I touched you, and you’ll miss me.”
“Fin, don’t.”
I reach for my fly, but Mila pushes my hands away. My heart beats like hooves as her fingers fold around my cock, pulling it out.
“You’ll remember how I made you laugh.” My words come out husky as she swipes my silky crown with her arousal, making herself shiver. “You’ll think about the times I held you, the shapes I bent you in, and you’ll realize that no one will ever fuck you better. Hold you better.”
Let me in, Mila. Let me in, please.
“Yes.” A sibilant hiss as she presses me there. I need you.
My pulse pounds so hard it echoes in my ears. I tighten one hand on her thigh, lifting, spreading, my other finding the base of her throat, where I feel her gasp. As I drive myself inside, her cry vibrates through my hold.
“Mila.” I press my cheek to hers, her walls a tantalizing throb. Breaths mingle, our bodies fused as I hold her there, just absorbing the moment. “You’ll miss me. And you’ll call me.” I slide the damp strands from her face when she closes her eyes, denying me.
Veiling her thoughts.
“You’ll call me,” I persist, pressing my lips to her chaotic pulse. “Because you’ll realize what we have is too good to let wither.”
“And too hard to make work,” she whispers in response.
My curse is delivered through gritted teeth, the grip of her body around my aching cock enough to make me burst. I flex my hips, and she groans, undulating into my next thrust. “Wrong, darling. I’d work so hard for you.”
She makes a noise, a tight breath, something inside her opening.
“I want to be inside you so deep.”
“You are,” she whispers, her lips by my ear. “So deep. I’ll remember this time until I’m old and gray.”
And I’m sitting in the rocking chair by your side, my mind supplies.
“Goddamn,” I moan, grinding against her. Pleasure crawls along my spine, tightening my balls, making her grunt as I thrust harder.
“It hurts so good.” Breath more than words. She grazes my earlobe with her teeth and shatters the last vestiges of my civility.
I give a long, raspy groan. I can’t think or process as a wave of Fuck yes ripples through my insides, pleasure coiling so low. A second later, everything becomes urgent and frantic, the darkened hallway filling with the sounds of our coupling.
“Don’t look away.” My fingers unfold to find her chin. “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl. Watch me, Mila. Watch how I make you mine.”
My heart feels like it could burst, my mouth meeting hers on an upthrust; our wet, messy, tongues twining as this need, this desperation to have her, own her, fills every inch of my being.
“Oh, God, Fin . . .”
Her body begins to throb my name, milking me for all I’m worth.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp into the soft skin of her neck. “Let go. I’ve got you, my darling girl.”
Still holding her wide, holding her eyes on mine, I drive myself inside her one final time.
This woman is mine. She’s not just my wife, but my why.
Tonight, or forever, I’m not letting go.
Chapter 24
Mila
Sarai was right. The food on a private jet is amazing. At least, it looks amazing. Sadly, every bite I slide into my mouth tastes like cardboard.
My decisions taste like cardboard, too, and my sadness like a paper cut to the tongue. At least it stops me from speaking. So here I sit, cocooned in the jet’s plush leather seat, probably the most comfortable place ever. Save for being cradled by the hands of God. Or the arms of Fin.
Oh, I am miserable.
Last night . . . I will remember last night for the entirety of my life. How Fin held me. How he treasured me. How he wiped away my tears, never pausing in his quest to fuck his feelings into me.