Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
I stepped back.
“I’m a monster.” He stayed with me, his deep, resonant voice fraying like rope. “Worse than you can imagine.”
“No imagination needed.” I continued to withdraw, edging into the day cabin. “I can feel the burn of your latest malefaction in my backside.”
“Yes, I hurt you.” He stalked closer. “God knows, I’ll hurt you again. I’m damned good at it.”
Raw masculinity dominated his gait as he prowled after me into the sleeping chamber.
He was a whore for his king. A devout adherent. A rule follower. He wasn’t a man who just took what he wanted. But right now, he wore the look of one. Bared teeth, wild eyes, unwavering steps—he projected an animal instinct, primitive and uncivilized, and the full force of it centered on me.
“Don’t come any closer.” I held up a hand, warding him off. “Stay back.”
“I can’t.” He kept coming. “This isn’t some fickle inclination or casual infatuation. What I feel for you isn’t sane or safe or rooted in lust.”
My stomach tumbled as I staggered back, seeking distance and bumping into the bed. “What is it, then?”
“It’s madness, Bennett. Ruin.” He cornered me, imprisoning me with his eyes. “You know as well as I do that this affinity, you and me, is frighteningly, magnificently, hopelessly real.”
My heart thundered, shrieking at him for being so cruel and so irrevocably right.
He reached for me, and I fell back, landing on the mattress with nowhere to go. His hand closed around my wrist, and I twisted, swinging a fist and missing him in a haze of panic. Then I went crazy.
Scrambling across the bed, I snarled and kicked and hit every part of him that came near. But nothing deterred him. He caught my leg, then my waist, tackling me to the mattress and driving my heart into exhaustion. In the next breath, I was restrained beneath his substantial bulk with my arms pinned to my sides.
Was the coverlet still wrapped around me? A thin drape of linen wouldn’t protect me from him, anyway. At that thought, I renewed my struggling, desperate to escape before he forced my legs apart and violated me again.
But he didn’t attack. His arms clasped tight around my squirming, twisting, gasping body and just held me there. Hugging me.
Searing pressure filled my throat and hit the backs of my eyes. The hoarseness of my breathing rose over the creaking in the cabin.
His mouth went to my ear. “Shhhhh.”
Tears invaded, inwardly, silently. But somehow, he knew. He made more hushing sounds and gathered me closer, embracing me in a cocoon of strength without crushing me.
I didn’t know what to do with this. I didn’t trust it.
His lips moved to my brow, lingering, softly kissing, and I didn’t know how to react to that, either. I wanted it. I wanted him to kiss me and hold me and keep me as his captive, without actually being one.
I shouldn’t crave any of those things. I was sick. Mentally unwell. Emotionally and physically exhausted.
I wanted to return to my ship and my life with Reynolds and Jobah.
He shifted, trailing kisses across my eyelids, down the length of my nose, and around the corner of my mouth. Then he stared at me with a magnetism that made everything else fade into the lantern’s backlight.
He was such a distinguished, utterly gorgeous man I never tired of looking at him. Even when he was mean. Especially then. The utter loss of control and wild passion he’d asserted on the balcony would’ve been sinfully arousing under different circumstances.
If I hadn’t been plotting against him, and he wasn’t trying to condemn me to the hempen halter, I’d wager that we could have had a lovely relationship seeded in trust, communication, and sizzling love.
Notwithstanding the drastic discrepancy in our social classes.
My face gravitated to the warmth of his chest, my lips grazing the silken neckline of his open shirt. My cheek resting against the knit of bone and sinew on his sternum. My fingers sliding around his lean waist to… I only meant to touch his spine. But my hands bumped against the upper curves of his rock-hard arse.
He stilled. I trembled. Then I surrendered to the impulse and palmed his taut, firm buttocks through the breeches.
His body gave a slow, sinuous flex, rolling against me as he released a rumbling groan.
“I want to start over.” The languorous grind of his hips let me feel how hard he throbbed between us. “You don’t have to forgive me. But we’re not leaving this bed until you come.”
My scorn clung, setting my jaw. “If I say no?”
“I told you.” He gripped my chin and locked our eyes. “Don’t ever say no to me.”
His mouth came down, slanting just right and kissing me soundly. He stroked gently at first, his tongue seeking, hunting. When it finally caught mine, the touch felt like an echo of bees, and I nearly jumped from my skin.