Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Blinking up at him, I smile. “I was dreaming about you.” My voice is raspy.
“I got to go, baby.” He leans down, and before I can speak, he’s kissing me. It feels so good even though my lips are bruised.
“Mm, you taste good,” he murmurs as he kisses and licks my neck. I smile and moan, lacing my arms around his neck.
“Babe.” He unlocks my arms and stands. “As much as I want to climb back into bed, I can’t.”
I sigh, closing my eyes, snuggling back into his pillow. “’K. I’m gonna sleep a little longer.”
He laughs and I feel his hand brush away my hair. “Antoinette, I need you to wake up. I need to tell you things.”
Dread makes my eyes pop open. “Oh.” I push myself up on my elbows. With the A/C on, his room is cool and refreshing. He must have showered already because his fresh clean scent is swirling around me.
“Um. Okay.” I sit up, looking for the sheet, which is wadded up at the bottom of the bed. Thank God it’s still relatively dark in his room with the blinds closed. I’m sure my cheeks are bright red as the reality of everything slaps me in the face.
He stands before me and my eyes follow his jeans up to the dark T-shirt that’s molded to his incredible body. “I told Amy that you’re here. When you get hungry, go to the kitchen and ask for her. Otherwise you don’t go anywhere else. You understand?”
I nod, horrified at everything I did last night. Holy shit.
“Did you hear me? I need you to respond.” My eyes dart up to his as I crawl down to the bottom of the bed searching for the sheet to cover me up before I die of humiliation.
“Who’s Amy?” I ask, cringing at the hint of jealousy in my voice.
He remains silent but watches me. With a snort, he reaches for his cigarettes on the nightstand.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, realizing the sheet is on the floor. When I peek up at him, he stands there like a dark fallen angel and lights his cigarette. The bluish-orange flame from the lighter makes me see dots for a second.
He inhales, his eyes narrowing as they travel all the way down my body.
With as much dignity as I can summon, I reach for his pillow and prop it behind my head. Hopefully my face looks calm while I try to act as if I’m comfortable being naked in front of him. Because holy shit.
His eyes dip to my breasts and I swear to God, somehow he can read my mind.
“Amy’s like a mother to me. She runs the clubhouse. You need anything, you go to her.”
I barely understand what he’s saying as I steady my breathing. “Okay… like a mother,” I repeat.
He cocks his head, his full lips in a smirk. “You okay?”
He can’t possibly know that I’m replaying every thrust, kiss, oh my God. The way I begged him and came in his mouth and on his cock. Axel needs to leave so I can lean over and scream into his pillow.
“No. I’m fine.” I look down at my feet and am a little mortified. They’re almost deformed from all the callouses, and my toes are permanently squished thanks to wearing pointe shoes for so long.
With his rough hand, he lifts my chin and rubs his thumb back and forth. His eyes caress
my face.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Did you like having me inside of you?”
Jeez, he’s so nasty and kind of intimate. My face floods with heat and I nod, raising my knees and covering my face.
“I’m embarrassed,” I whisper.
He laughs. “You’ll get over it.”
I look up to say, I’m not so sure. But I blink at the look in his eyes. He’s dangerous in so many ways. On the one hand, it’s making me crave him; on the other, I could easily give him my heart.
This should scare me. Instead it makes me want him more.
“I should tie you up.” He leans down to grab my face with both hands. “You’d like it.” He grunts as he kisses me. And I’m caught in this web that is sticky and messy, yet if you look at it in the right light, it’s silky and beautiful.
Pulling back, he frowns, as if for a moment he feels the same.
“I’ve got to go,” he says, taking his cigarettes and keys. Not even looking at me, he puts on his cut and stuffs a gun in the back of his jeans.
The door closes and I simply stare. I don’t think I move. What am I doing?
A gun?
How has my life spiraled out of control so fast?
I didn’t even ask him about my apartment. He said I’ll get used to it. By it I guess he means his thick cock. And he didn’t tell me to leave, so I guess that means he wants me to stay.