Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Now, they're broken—shattered and scattered on the floor like the remnants of our clothing. We aren't going back and pretending they matter now. Hell no.
If I have to keep her on my cock every hour until she's too blissed out to argue about it, well, I'm just asshole enough to do it. Whatever it takes to convince her that she's staying right here. Until I figure out a way to make her fall for me, sex is the only tool I've got in my arsenal. So yeah, I'll use it. Over and over again, if that's what it takes.
I rock my hips, fucking into her slowly. She grumbles a protest even as she arches her hips to meet me, trying to stay strong, but unable to muster the conviction to make her protest believable. She wants this—wants me. She's just trying to convince herself that she shouldn't.
When I slip my hand between her thighs, playing with her clit while fucking her, she cracks. A soft whimper of surrender tumbles from her lips, her nails digging into my shoulder blades.
Neither of us says anything else as I pump into her, fucking her nice and slow this time. She's hot heat and sweet surrender around me, driving me out of my mind with every panted breath. And I'm all wild desperation and frantic need above her, dragging her to the edge with every slow, measured thrust.
We fall together, gasping and moaning.
She trembles in my arms afterward, soft whimpers pelting the side of my face.
"You aren't quitting," I growl softly, my lips against the side of her throat.
"Okay," she whispers, surrendering one more time.
I feel the triumph echoing in my soul.
Chapter Five
Constance
By the time we make it to Della's to pick up my car, we're already late to work, and I'm frazzled. Bastian is cool as a cucumber, actually grinning beside me. I expect some self-satisfied comment as he helps me into my car, but there isn't one.
He just meets my gaze, his suspiciously soft.
"Behave today, baby."
"I always behave," I grumble.
His smirk grows before he shakes his head. "We both know that's a damn lie." He doesn't give me time to object to his revisionist history of my impeccable behavior before he closes my door. "I'll see you this afternoon."
I immediately roll my window down, frowning at him. "What do you mean, you'll see me this afternoon? We're going to the same place."
"We aren't. Trystan and I have a meeting in Santa Barbara this morning. We're looking at the distillery there."
"Oh." My brows furrow. I forgot all about the meeting. It's been on his schedule for weeks. They're considering partnering with the distillery for their new craft gin, one exclusive to this region. I blame him for me not remembering. My mind is currently goo, kind of like my legs.
"We'll be back by mid-afternoon."
"Take pictures," I order.
"We don't need them. I'll remember where everything is located."
"I'm not talking about the layout." I roll my eyes at him, though I'm not really surprised he'll have the place memorized before they leave. His mind is a terrifying weapon. "I mean, of the two of you, on a road trip. I need them for social media."
He eyes me levelly.
"You agreed to let me share snippets of you guys running the vineyard. This is part of it."
"I seem to recall agreeing to let you share snippets of them doing their jobs. I do not recall agreeing to play along."
"Yeah, well, you should have read the fine print. You're part of the family, and you're the heart of the vineyard. I need shots of you, too." He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a hard glare. "Do you want me to catapult the vineyard to social media stardom or not? If so, bring me the photos, Bastian."
"Fine," he mutters, shaking his head. "But we're going to revisit this conversation later."
"No, we're not. You agreed. Too late to back out now." I beam up at him. "But feel free to complain about it. I know that makes your shriveled heart happy."
"That's one."
"One what?"
"Strike."
"So we're counting now? Because I'm probably already at one thousand if you want to get technical." I smirk at him. "But sure, reset the strike clock. I can inch it right back up there, no problem."
"Big words for a woman who doesn't know what happens when I get to three." He quirks a brow at me, his gaze running down my body.
My core clenches. My heart races. Warning bells alarm in the back of my mind. "Uh, what happens when you get to three?"
"I fuck you over my desk with your panties stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet," he says like he's giving me the weather report. And then he taps the side of my car before stepping away. "Behave today."