Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
The last few days have been a total mindfuck and I could use a break.
Between Jude fucking me silly, fucking me like I’m a drug he can’t get enough of, and trying to come to terms with my new living situation, I’ve been a bit of a mess.
One minute, I’m fine with everything.
Fine with the way he dotes and loves on Abel.
Fine with the way he fucking worships me like I’m some kind of goddess.
And the next, I’m terrified.
Terrified that nothing good can come from this.
I’ve never been a religious woman, but even I can feel our sins hanging over our heads.
There will be repercussions.
He may feel like he’s sufficiently punished me for what I did, and even forgiven me for it, but I have the sinking suspicion that we haven’t seen all the fallout yet.
And getting me pregnant isn’t going to make up for any of it.
There are people out there that still want to kill him.
Jude leans over me and plants his hands down on either side of my head.
With him stretched out above me, completely naked, I give into the urge to slowly drink in the sight of his bare flesh.
His own spell wrapping around me and sucking me in.
The man is magnificent, there’s no denying that.
I don’t know what his tattoos mean, if they mean anything, but I like to lose myself in them.
Lose myself in the battles of angels and demons.
Tentatively, I reach up and place my palm lightly against his chest. Feeling his smooth, inked skin.
He seems to love it when Abel touches him and explores his tattoos.
But for some reason, I always feel nervous when I do it.
Maybe because I feel nervous about him, period.
When he smiles down at me, pleased, I smile back at him. “You’re leaving?”
His smile instantly fades. “Yes.”
It would only be natural to ask where he’s going next…
But I actually don’t want to know.
I’d rather not know what he gets up to when he’s off on his own.
Because I have the feeling he’s not off selling fucking bibles or encyclopedias.
Not after seeing him chop off Rodney’s hand.
My mind starts to wonder how many hands and dead bodies have been left in a wake behind him…
But I quickly yank it back.
That way only leads to insanity, and if I want to survive any of this I need to keep my wits.
I need to be ready to make my escape.
Abel is counting on me.
Abel and his well-being are the only things keeping me sane at this point.
Regardless of what my body wants or craves, I will leave Jude if given half the chance.
Leave behind all the death and madness.
Jude bends down and captures my lips.
The kiss is gentle and sweet.
And still believing he’s about to leave, I let myself fall into it.
Let myself have this little moment.
Rubbing my palm up his chest, I selfishly let myself forget how we got here.
I don’t think about how fast everything happened.
I refuse to acknowledge that this isn’t love or anything close to it. That his pursuit of me, his want and need of me, is simply sick and disturbing obsession.
Savoring the texture of his lips and the sweet taste of his quickening breath, I convince myself this is all perfectly normal.
Because it’s the only way I can exist like this.
Stuck on the razor’s edge.
The way my body responds to him will forever baffle me, but I don’t try to fight it.
I don’t fight the heat spreading through me or the tingles he creates when his skin simply touches my skin.
Knowing it’s safe to do so because he has to leave.
Until he begins to deepen the kiss.
Groaning into my mouth, his weight comes down on top of me, sinking me into the bed.
His tongue thrusts past my lips, hungry and far too desperate.
Again, I choose to be selfish for a few more moments.
Kissing him back.
Kissing him like I fucking love him and need him.
But when his hand goes to my breast, I rip my mouth away.
“Don’t you have to leave?” I pant.
The corners of his lips quirk up and his eyes gleam. “In fifteen minutes.”
He tries to suppress his glee over my surprise, but I know I’ve been tricked.
Like a stupid, vapid rabbit, I walked myself right into his trap.
Tightening the snare around me, he captures my mouth again. Taking advantage of my shock and thrusting his tongue past my open lips.
His hand squeezes my breast and his hips rock into me. His stiff length rubbing against my clit.
Jolting, I shove hard at his chest.
When that doesn’t budge him, I resort to biting his bottom lip.
Jude jerks above me and pulls back.
He looks down at me in surprise, but then his eyes begin to slowly darken.
Fuck.
I probably shouldn’t have done that…
Making a sound deep in his throat, his head dips, but I turn my face away at the last second.