Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Her hands come to my chest, and she mutters something against my mouth. The words are a jumble I swallow, because right now I need this woman more than I’ve needed anyone in a very, very long time. Maybe it’s the day, the funeral; maybe it’s the years that have passed. Or maybe it’s what’s coming. But right now, I need her every breath, every sound, every touch.
“Madelena,” I whisper against her skin. She’s soft and warm, and I taste her on my lips. I slide my fingers back down over her belly past the elastic waist of the jogging pants and I breathe in her gasp when my fingers slip into those tight little shorts, the tips just brushing against the hair there when she bites my lip hard and shoves against me.
“Stop!” she cries out.
I step backward as if struck. I touch my thumb to my lip. It comes away red. “What the hell?”
“What the hell? I said stop! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Out of breath, she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth.
I clench my teeth, watch her, see how the wall is holding her up. What the hell am I doing? What was that?
She gathers her strength before my eyes. It’s something to see. “You may dictate my life, but I have another year. I know that. Another year before you force me into your bed!”
I shove my hands into my pockets, make fists, because I don’t like where this is going. Not necessarily because what she’s saying isn’t true, but it’s that one word. Force. “Your name is on the contract. You offered your hand willingly.”
“If I hadn’t, wouldn’t you have taken it?” I open my mouth to smooth things over, but she continues. “Like you were about to take something else?”
Those final words stop me dead. “What did you say?” I close that space between us and back her into that wall again.
She looks uncertain for the second time this night, but she’s more stubborn than smart because she sets her jaw and folds her arms across her chest. “You heard me.”
I snort, but I’m furious at her, furious for what she’s suggesting. I wouldn’t force her or any woman into my bed.
I set my hands on either side of her head and watch her eyes shift left, right, then back at me. That pulse that was racing moments ago is racing again, throbbing against her neck, but this time it’s an adrenaline rush of fear. Not arousal.
“Don’t ever say anything like that again. Do you hear me?”
“Then don’t do anything like—”
I slam my hands against the wall, and she jumps. “Do you hear me!”
She nods fast, hands against my chest again as she tries to keep me back. I glance away, my gaze catching on our reflection in the mirror over the dresser. When I see us, I’m taken aback. I see how her back is pressed against the wall, see how I hulk over her, trapping her there. The beast who very clearly terrifies the beauty.
She’s a decade younger than me. A hundred pounds lighter than me. Barely a woman, and a completely inexperienced one at that. What am I doing here?
I shouldn’t have come.
I push off the wall and walk away, my back to her as I force myself to breathe in, breathe out. To calm the fuck down.
“Apologize,” I grunt without turning to her, because I am pissed. I’m just not sure if it’s at her or myself.
“Will you leave if I do?” she asks, rebellion still in her trembling voice. I’m glad to hear it.
I nod once. I’m not welcome here. Coming here was stupid. Giving her the engagement ring was a stupid excuse I fed myself. My brother was right. What the hell did I hope to gain by coming here?
“Then I’m sorry if what I said upset you.”
I hear her non-apology and turn to face her, look her over. I shake my head on an audible exhale. Just a little thing, my Little Kitty. Her claws are no match for my teeth, and tonight is not the night for this. I need to leave before I do something stupid.
“Come here,” I say, reaching into my pocket.
She hugs herself as if she’s cold but steps toward me, never taking her eyes off me as if she could run from me if I pounce. But she comes. I’ll give her points for that. I take her arm. She resists at first, but I draw it out, hold her hand. I look again at the chipped, bitten-down nails. I turn it over to look at her palm, tracing the scar I left. One of many to come, I think, even if they are the kind you don’t see. The thought weighs heavy on me as I slide the ring onto her finger.