Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I cry out, the sound echoing off the glass.
He does it again, and then again, each thrust harder, deeper than the last. It's not delicate or careful; it's everything I want, everything I didn't know I needed. He fucks me like he's trying to make me forget my own name and replace it with his. And it's perfect, so fucking perfect, all I can do is sob.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
I meet every stroke, greedy for him, desperate. My nails rake down his back so hard he hisses a curse and fucks me even deeper, harder.
"Kingston!" I cry, trying to tell him that I'm almost there.
"Wait for me, Evie," he grits out, one hand fisted in my hair, the other braced beside my head. His voice is wild, pleading, and possessive all at once, his command vibrating through my whole body. "I want to come with you. Can you hold it, baby? Can you wait for me?"
I nod, not even sure I can speak. My body is strung tight, every muscle shaking, every inch of me humming with need.
He shoves in deep and grinds, not moving, just holding there, the pressure almost unbearable. His hand clamps tight in my hair, pulling my head back so I have no choice but to look him in the eyes as he pushes so deep it feels like he's splitting me in half, making me brand new from the inside out.
I'm close, so close, everything building and building. The world shrinks to the heat of him inside me, the taste of his mouth, the way his eyes devour me.
He grinds his hips, circling, and my whole body bows up. I try to hold it. I try so fucking hard…but it's useless.
I let go, screaming his name as he shatters me to pieces. I feel my pulse everywhere—my throat, my wrists, between my legs, syncing up with each thrust.
He breaks, too. I feel it before I hear the sound he makes—almost a sob, guttural and raw—and then he's coming, his hips stuttering, his arms locked so tight around me I can't breathe.
For a second, we're both weightless, suspended in this perfect, wild oblivion. He doesn't exist, and neither do I. We're just shudders and come and groans.
And then we're tangled together, gasping and sweating, our bodies fused, his body so close I feel every frantic beat of his heart.
I wrap my arms around him, my nails tracing shapes on his back, memorizing his warmth and weight. I could fall asleep right here, under him, surrounded by him, with the ocean and the stars outside and the salt of his skin on my lips.
"Jesus," he murmurs into my neck, his voice hoarse. "Jesus Christ, Evie."
I hear the thread of awe in his voice, and I know he feels the same thing I do, like this right here is where we're meant to be.
I bury my face in his throat, my world in shambles around me. What's left isn't what I expected. Somehow, it's even better. It's him and me and more of this. So much more of this.
Chapter Eight
Kingston
Waking up to Evie in my bed is the culmination of every dream I've ever had. She's so sweet when she sleeps, and so fucking soft. I can't help but pull her closer, my hands drifting across her body, just to feel her come alive for me.
Long before her eyes open, she's whimpering my name.
There isn't a man alive who'd blame me for slipping between her legs and licking her awake. I taste myself on her, and my cock has never been harder or more desperate.
I ignore the hard bastard, eating her until she's fully awake, her hands fisted in my hair as she grinds against my face, begging for more. I give it to her, flipping her to her stomach and fucking her until she's screaming.
She sounds so sweet when she's screaming for me.
By the time I'm finished with her, she's limp beneath me, her body plastered to the bed like she's part of it. She's never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment.
My heart squeezes in a vise, threatening to rip itself in half just to belong to her. I don't think I've ever wanted anything as badly as I want a lifetime of her just like this.
"Are you still falling for me, princess?" I ask, my lips at her ear.
"Maybe," she says.
I nuzzle her throat, praying to a God I'm not even sure I believe in that she keeps falling. I'll be right here to catch her when she's ready to land. She'll be safe in my arms, where she belongs.
"Are you going to run if I tell you that I'm not?"
She goes rigid beneath me, then turns her head oh so slowly to face me. I realize as soon as I see her face that she misunderstood. She thinks I've changed my mind.