Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
To hoist her in my arms and kiss the nape of her neck. For her fingers to claw at my hair. To hear her hungered moans against my ear.
I’ve never been with a woman who loves sex like I do. With an animalistic ferocity. Who needs carnal touch like water, quenching a desperate thirst. Jane is my match, my mate, and I swear to all that’s holy, I’d give her my breath, my body—but guilt is slowly destroying me.
I set my boots against the nightstand, and I rise.
She shakes out a match, waxy candles lit on an antique dresser. I near Jane, my muscles contracting and my blood pumping into my cock, and I watch her breasts push out with shallow, wanting breath. She eases back into the wall, waiting for the inevitable moment where we collide.
I place a strong hand on the burgundy wallpaper. High above her head, and before she speaks, I have to lay down ground rules. “We’re doing things a bit different tonight.”
Her brows quirk. “Are we?”
I slip the button through her jeans. “You ready to go for hours and be spent in my arms?”
She almost moans. “Yes.” Her hands clutch my ass, her hips bowed towards me. “But that’s not so different from most nights.” Curiosity sparkles her blue eyes.
She’s flat-out beautiful.
Gently, I peel her fingers off my body, and her lips part in confusion. I clarify. “You can’t touch my ass, my cock—I’m not getting off, only you are.”
Jane frowns. “I don’t like this.” She searches my hardened gaze. “What’s going on, Thatcher?”
I tell her everything about my conversation with Akara and finish with, “I’ve disrespected him enough, and having sex is another bullet in a gun I’m firing.”
She catches my wrist before I unzip her jeans. “We don’t have to have sex.” We’re breathing like we’re already making love against the wall.
My gaze slips down my girlfriend in a sensual stroke, her wide hips still arched towards me. Her freckled cheeks are flushed and eyes big. She needs more. I need more. My dick twitches, and I expel another hot breath through my nose.
“Okay?” she breathes, her fingers hooking my belt loop. Tension snakes around us, threatening to choke us to fucking death, and the cold house suddenly blazes at a million degrees.
“No.” I brace my forearm to the wall, only a sliver of space separating our bodies.
Jane melts. “Thatcher.” It’s a wanting, needing, pleading Thatcher, but she adds fast, “If you plan to punish yourself, then you better include me. We’re in this together. So if you can’t come, then I can’t either.”
My jaw tenses. That will kill me.
She tries to read my features. “Frankly…” Her voice softens. “I’d much rather you not punish yourself at all because it won’t make you feel any better.”
I know she’s right.
But I’ve never known how to let myself off the hook that easily.
I shake my head. “I deserve hell.”
“You deserve to be happy,” Jane combats with so much conviction, and I hear my grandma’s soulful voice—be happy.
It’s not a single step into happiness. Not for me. To let myself have that is five-hundred klicks away, and my trek only just began when I chose something happy in my life, for once.
When I chose Jane.
I cup her cheek. The plaid blanket slips off her shoulder, heat brewing between us.
I put words into the quiet. “I can be happy without sex for a night.” Really, I might be fooling myself this one particular night.
She lifts her chin. “So can I.” She puts her hands on my flexed abs in attempt to shove me back, but she applies no force.
We stare into each other.
We breathe heavier.
“I don’t need you,” Jane suddenly whispers.
Something sharp impales my chest. “Say again?”
“I don’t need you.” In the candlelight, I can see her eyes reddening. “I can get myself off.”
I go rigid. “I don’t doubt that, but would you rather have your fingers or my cock, honey?”
She intakes a staggered breath. “My fingers.”
I squint at her, my pulse on a seasick free-fall. “You’d rather have yourself than have me?” I’m confused as all hell.
Jane blinks rapidly, shaking cobwebs out of her head. “Your cock is just an appendage. It’s a fact.” She’s trying to isolate feelings from sex.
I glare at the window, then try to soften my eyes when I set them back on her. “My cock is attached to my body, and trust me when I tell you that every time I’m inside your pussy, it’s never some vapid, emotionless thing.”
She opens her mouth, but words are stuck on her tongue. “I…”
“My cock is yours, but I’m not a sex toy. I’m better because I love you, and I will fuck you with nothing less than love, Jane.”
She holds onto my waist like her knees are about to buckle. “I…yes—no. No.” She inhales. “I’m fine with my fingers.”