Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 127461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“Turn on the shower, honey,” she instructed. “I’m going to wash you.”
He did as she said, careful to keep his body between hers and the water until he was certain the temperature wouldn’t hurt her. He liked it hot. And he wanted steam. “There isn’t any way to get me clean. I won’t be sleeping for a long, long time.”
She removed the robe from her shoulders, tossing it after his shirt, her blue eyes shimmering through the clouds of steam. He didn’t want her to look at him. Inside him. Into his mind. She saw too much with those eyes of hers. “You’re already clean, Gorya. See yourself through my eyes, not yours. You’ll have no problem going to sleep tonight. I was proud of you and proud of Rogue. Thank you for sticking up for Alicia, Yelena and Leo and all the others Braum would have forced into his way of life.”
She picked up the gel body wash and sponge and began soaping his body. Nothing in his life had prepared him for Maya and the way she cared for him that night. She took her time, her hands gentle as they moved over his entire body. She didn’t seem shy or inhibited or in the least bit worried he might attack her. She seemed—trusting. She’d given her trust to the monster.
He turned his face up to the spray of water and let it fall on him, mingling with the unfamiliar burn in his eyes as he pulled her to him and clung, holding on to her as if she were his lifeline. His savior. And she was. She’d said she couldn’t be. But she was. How could he not want her—need her—with every cell in his body? How could he not love her?
Hell. He hadn’t known he was capable of loving anyone. Not real love. Not the deep, soul-crushing, gut-wrenching, all-encompassing emotion that overwhelmed him when he looked at her. Or thought about her. Or just woke up, heart pounding because, with that first breath he took, he had to breathe her in to know his world was going to be right.
There she was, curled right against him the way she did, hardly taking up any space, yet she filled his universe. He could breathe. He could live. Rogue could live. So what the hell was he doing lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan, wanting more. Needing more. Instead of getting on his knees and thanking every god there was that she was his, his mind was filled with every erotic, lustful, dirty thought he could possibly have.
Love and lust were so twisted together he didn’t know where one started and the other ended. They had no covers over them. The night was too damn hot. Muggy. Sultry. Perfumed. Her perfume. Her natural fragrance drove him insane. Sometimes he dreamt of her right before he woke, of burying his tongue in her and having her come apart for him. Moaning his name. Fingers digging deep in his shoulders. In his skin. He fucking ached for her.
He couldn’t just lie there next to her. He didn’t trust himself. Sighing, he started to sit up. Her hand slid along his bare thigh, and he froze. That whisper of a touch was like a brand burning her name into his skin. His cock, already as hard as a rock, became a thick shaft of pure titanium.
“Baby.” His voice came out more of a growl. A deep rasp. A warning.
“You’re burning up. You went to sleep relaxed, and now every muscle in your body is as tight as a drum. What is it?”
They had made a vow to be honest with each other. He turned his head to look at her. Her large eyes stared straight into his. No fear. Where had her fear gone? She’d had a complete breakdown when Wraith had gone into a fever pitch of heat, and yet now she looked at him with speculation, desire. All woman. Temptation. Not good when he was in such a state.
Gorya took her hand—the hand that was so small in comparison to his. Very slowly he brought it to his swollen cock and wrapped her fingers around the hot, pulsing shaft. He waited for her retreat. Her fear of him. She’d completely fallen apart a few nights earlier, yet she didn’t flinch now.
Her fingers tightened, long lashes sweeping up and then down to look at the sight of him with their joined fists surrounding his girth. “You feel like a combination of silk and steel.”
His heart clenched in his chest. She didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she seemed fascinated. More than fascinated. She even shifted slightly closer to him as if getting a better look. She had never avoided looking at his body and he’d never hidden himself from her, but she’d never looked at his cock, not with that particular look in her eyes. Was it real? Desire? Had her fingers tightened and pumped along with his of their own volition?