Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
God damn, that metal drags against my walls, sending electricity through me.
“Yes.”
“Is this what you need, baby girl?” He nibbles on my lips and over to my ear. “Do you need my cock?”
“I need everything.”
He stills for just a heartbeat, and then he’s no longer calm and gentle. He starts to move fast, thrusting hard, and when his hand closes over my throat and his thumb rests over my pulse point, I moan in happiness.
“Oh, baby, your pulse is fucking hammering. I want you to come on me.” His voice is a growl in my ear that only ignites me further. “I want you to give me everything you have to give, little rose. Do you hear me?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Give it to me.” He pushes hard, rubbing the root of himself against my clit, and stars erupt behind my eyelids. “Look at me, wife.”
My eyes fly open. He’s staring down at me with so much love, so much intensity, it sends me over, convulsing and contracting around him as the orgasm washes over me.
I don’t even realize that I’m crying until he brushes his thumb over my cheek, catching the tears there.
“You destroy me when you cry, baby girl.”
But I can’t help it. With my arms and legs wrapped around him, I cling to him, giving him everything I have to give.
“You are my heart,” I whisper through the tears. “You are everything.”
He pauses, and then his hips jerk, and he comes with a roar before rolling over and pulling me with him, still connected, until I’m lying flat on him.
For such a hard man, he’s quite comfortable.
We’re quiet while our breathing evens out and our heart rates return to normal. After a while, he kisses my head and then rolls me to the side so he can clean us up.
And then he joins me, facing me in the moonlight. Lightning flashes outside, and then thunder rolls, and I grin.
“I love storms.”
“How come?” He brushes a lock of my hair off my face, and then the backs of his knuckles slide over my skin, as if he can’t stand not touching me.
“It’s like Mother Nature’s throwing a fit. All loud and dramatic. It’s kind of fun.”
“Hmm.”
“What about you? Do you like them, or do they scare you?”
He frowns, and a shadow passes through his eyes, so I reach for his hand, kiss it, and then tuck it with mine under my chin.
“You can tell me.”
“My sisters didn’t like storms.” His voice is quiet. “And he thought that was funny, so he’d lock them outside so they had to sit in the middle of it.”
Without a pause, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him against me, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck, clinging to me.
“God, Holden.”
“But now I have this memory with you. And it won’t be so awful anymore.”
“How did you all survive it?”
He sighs and kisses my shoulder, then my cheek, and we go back to lying on our pillows, facing each other.
“I had to survive it because I had my girls, Millie. After Mom died, I was the only one who cared about them. So I had to figure it out for them. But there were times, like during storms, that even I couldn’t keep them safe from his sick and fucked-up ways. He was much stronger than me.”
We’re quiet for a moment as more lightning and thunder roll around us.
“You know, a few weeks ago, if you’d have told me that we’d be here like this, married and talking about love and all that mushy stuff, I would have stabbed you in the heart.”
He smirks. “Mushy stuff?”
“We’re totally mushy. And I don’t usually do mushy.” I swallow hard and frown. “I’m going to say some stuff, and I don’t want you to run away from me, okay?”
“Nothing you could say could make me leave you, Millie.” His eyes are serious, never leaving my gaze. “Never.”
“I used to hate you.” I swallow again, almost choking on the words that feel so wrong now. “Like, truly hated you. I was so resentful whenever you’d pop up around town, and even worse, when you’d come to my rescue. Do you remember a couple of years ago when I was in the bar, and those stupid tourists decided to be assholes, and you punched the biggest asshole of them all?”
“He fucking touched you. He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”
That gives me pause. My husband can be intense, and I have to admit, I kind of like it.
“I think I was angrier about the fact that you stepped in than I was at the idiot tourist. I would have punched him. I would have taken away his ability to father children.”
“I have no doubt. I got this tat after that night.” He lifts his arm and points to a roaring mountain lion. “Because you were a little hellcat that night. And I wanted to take you out of there and protect you from anyone who even thought about hurting you. But I couldn’t.”