Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I like it this way. She moans into my hand, and I can feel the exhales, feel the vibrations surging up my arm and into my heart.
Her hips buck harder, and I start to move in rhythm with her bounces. My head falls back as I squeeze her hips and urge her to keep going. Each wet crash of our bodies meeting gets us closer to the edge.
“I’m so fucking close,” she murmurs again. My hand falls away so she can choke out her moans into the open again. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
I’m close, too, but I can’t even find the words for it. It starts as a rumble in my chest and rises up through my throat. By the time it finds my lips, I’m erupting inside her.
“Marcello!” she whimpers once more.
“Harper…” I murmur back.
One.
Two.
Three more hard thrusts, and then we collapse together in a sweaty tangle of limbs.
We lie there for a while. Who the fuck knows how long?
Until, eventually, Harper pulls herself off me and pushes up onto her knees. She’s still wearing a bra, but everything else about her is smooth naked skin. Her hair is a sex-crazed mess.
She’s never looked better.
But her eyes—there’s a storm brewing there.
She looks everywhere but at me. And then finally, she does look down at me.
There are no words. The look in her eyes is deadly, and it seems to last forever.
A sigh leaves her mouth. She picks up her clothes and puts them on again as her cheeks flush with embarrassment over what just happened.
“Harper,” I mutter as I lean up on my elbows.
She cringes. “I hate it when you say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it means something,” she says, throwing me a look.
I frown. “What does that mean?”
I stand and grab my clothes from the floor. She stays where she is, observing silently. I don’t look down at her again until I’m fully dressed.
“What was this?” she asks.
It’s a strange question, but I know what she really means. What does it mean to have sex with a man you’re supposed to hate?
And I don’t have a single fucking clue how to answer that.
But I know, deep down, that she isn’t just my captive. That she isn’t just some girl I plucked off an auction to have my way with.
Over time, she’s become so much more than that.
But how do I explain it?
Is she my captive? Is she something else? Something more?
“It was … necessary,” I rasp.
She looks away, confused, and I recognize my own emotions in her eyes all too well.
“Who are you supposed to be for me?” she mutters.
“Who do you want me to be?”
It’s the first time I’ve ever thought of how she would perceive me and how much I am willing to do to make her feel safe. To make her happy … with me.
She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. I don’t know who anyone is anymore. Everything is so confusing.”
I nod, my jaw tensing up. “This isn’t your world.”
She grimaces. “No. Yet I am here for some goddamn reason, and I don’t understand.”
When I approach her, she flinches.
“No, don’t touch me.”
I extend my arms, but she refuses to come in for the embrace. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.
“Stop acting like you’re some kind of nice guy wanting to console me.”
“You’re right. I’m not a nice guy. I never said I was. But I will never stop trying to make you feel good.”
“Why?”
The question almost feels like a plea.
Her eyes flash bright with anger. “I never asked for any of this. Yet somehow, I was born into it and got dragged straight back in. Why can’t I just leave? Why can’t it all just stop?”
I lick my lips, the pain in her voice gripping my soul. “Because I … need you.”
Her eyes widen, and her whole body freezes up, which means I finally have her attention. “Don’t lie just to keep me here.”
“I am not lying. I am not trying to manipulate you. I am trying to tell you that I l—”
“Don’t.” She raises her finger briskly. “Don’t say something you can’t take back.” Tears well up in her eyes. “Don’t say something that’ll destroy me.”
My grimace deepens. “Fine. You have my deepest apologies. But I saved you from those Irish fucks because I care. Because I want you to be safe.”
She rolls her eyes hard. “Stop trying to be a martyr! You took me from Molly’s home because you wanted me for yourself. Admit it.”
I step forward and grab her jaw hard with one hand. “I asked you what you want me to be. You didn’t have an answer. I’ll ask one more time. What do you want me to be to you, Harper?”
Her eyes are locked on mine. Bright and infuriating. Equal parts love and hate.