Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
The kiss lasts longer than I expected it to, but when he pulls back, seeming just as breathless as I feel, I find myself clinging to him.
"Sorry," I whisper as he looks down at me, cock still deep inside and showing no signs of flagging.
"Never apologize to me for taking what you need," he says before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
The shift of his hips makes me want to reach for him again, but I resist.
I do my best to stifle my moan, but I can tell by the glint in his eyes that he heard it.
"Tell me what you need from me," he says, the warmth of his damp cock settled against my body.
"Can you hold me?" I ask in a moment of vulnerability.
"I was hoping you were going to say that," he says as he shifts to my side before pulling me against his body.
I realized immediately that this was the wrong thing to ask.
I don't know if he can feel the tears that leak from my eyes drop against his skin, but he never says a word.
Chapter 45
Nyx
I promised her that I would never pressure her into doing something she didn't want.
I wouldn't do it when she decided to go back to her apartment after finding out that Whitmore was in the wind after his parole release, and I certainly wouldn't do it after sex.
That's why, when I realized she was going to leave after she thought I had fallen asleep, I stayed still and let her go.
She has had too many people control her life, telling her what to do and when to do it.
Her history has been full of abuse and coercion, and I won't have any part of it.
We may not have a future, but I won't be one more thing she looks back on later in life and regrets.
I can't be another thing she wishes hadn't happened to her in life.
It hurt, the idea that she got what she wanted and then felt the need to be alone, but I don't get to dictate how other people feel.
I had every opportunity to put a stop to things, just as I did with her, and I didn't.
My pleasure came from giving her what she wanted.
I don't regret it, and I never will.
What happened last night was incredibly special, and I'm grateful to have been the man to show her that she deserves respect every second of her life, not just when it's convenient to someone else. She needs to see herself as a priority, and I pray that I was able to make her see that.
Knowing it was more than likely a onetime thing hasn't stopped my mind from wandering back to the memories of last night.
The taste of her skin.
The scent of her arousal
The whispered words of pleasure on her lips.
The way her body clenched around mine when she finally gave in to the need for orgasm.
All of it has had me battling against an erection all day.
I usually have better control of my thoughts and my body's reaction, but knowing what she feels like, how her eyes glistened when she found her release, has made it a difficult task today.
I stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling instead of leaving my room until well after the sun came up.
My vow not to pressure her includes the aftermath of what we experienced.
I don't plan to seek her out and make sure she's okay.
And although that feels wrong in some ways, I don't want her to feel like she has to talk about what happened or acknowledge it.
A part of my mind wonders if she'd feel used and rejected if I don't bring it up, but that other part of me doesn't want to force her to talk about it if she doesn't.
I feel lodged between a rock and a hard place, regretting that I didn't bring it up last night.
I don't know how to manage expectations when I don't know what the expectations are.
Being unsure isn't a familiar feeling, and I grow a little twitchy.
Instead of lying in bed getting nothing done but losing a little of my sanity, I climb out of bed.
I grab the discarded condom beside the bed and trash it before picking up my wallet and placing it back on the dresser. I gather my clothes from last night, fighting the urge to lift my shirt to my nose to see if her scent still clings to it as I carry the items to the laundry basket.
I grab a quick shower, get dressed, and leave the room, part of me hoping to see her in the kitchen, and another part hoping I don't so I don't put her on the spot.
The kitchen is clear, and I realize as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and a banana from the counter that there's a very real chance she might avoid me today.