Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Can’t.” I do gasp in a breath and feel him smile against me. “I think I died.”
“Not funny.” He slaps my pussy, making me gasp again.
He moves me effortlessly onto my side and spoons up behind me, lifting my leg and notching the head of his cock at my entrance. When he pushes inside, he steals my breath once more.
“So fucking deep,” I groan as he kisses over my shoulder. “Holy shit, Gideon. You’re so damn big.”
“And you take me so fucking well.” With my leg resting over his thigh, he reaches around and pets my clit, making me clench around him. “Like a fucking glove. You were made for me, Lena.”
Why does that make me want to cry?
I swallow hard and push back against him, wishing he’d pick up the pace and come so I didn’t feel so vulnerable, but he doesn’t do that. No, this amazing man pulls out and turns me around, so I’m facing him, and pulls my leg up, then slips back inside me and cups my cheek, brushing his thumb over my skin.
This is tender.
This is connection.
Christ, he’s making love to me.
“Gideon.”
He kisses me so softly, it makes my stomach clench.
“Mine,” he whispers against my lips. “Do you hear me?”
I can only nod, because if I speak, I’ll cry.
“Tell me.”
I shake my head no, and his eyes narrow. He grips onto my ass, pulling me closer, moving a little faster and harder, and this I can do.
I can give him this.
“Tell me,” he says again, louder and more insistent.
Closing my eyes, I press my lips to his. “Yours.”
“Fuck.” His fingertips are rough now, surely leaving bruises that will make me smile later. I want his roughness. I want to make him lose control because Gideon never loses control.
The head of his cock keeps brushing over that sensitive patch, and before I know it, I’m coming harder than ever, and with a groan, he follows me over, splashing inside me, and I know without a doubt that this has changed everything for me.
I’m in love with him.
“You’re not concentrating.”
Duh. How am I supposed to do that when he’s standing there looking like the epitome of sex?
We’re in the ring, and I’m supposed to be hitting him. Or trying to. I’ve only ever landed one punch, and that was to his stomach after flashing him my tits.
He’s been extra vigilant since then.
“We need a day off,” I tell him, but he scowls at me and crosses his arms over his chest, showing off his biceps. He’s in a black tank top, revealing not only the muscles but his tattoos as well, and it’s not fair that he looks that good.
Not fair at all.
“You’re not getting a fucking day off.”
“Well, not with that attitude.” I smile, hoping he’ll laugh at my joke, but he just stares at me. “I’m exhausted, big guy. Someone has seriously disrupted my sleep schedule lately. You woke me up to fuck me twice last night.”
His lips twitch up into a smirk. “You weren’t complaining when I was nine inches inside you and you were squirting all over my cock, Rebel.”
Jesus, the mouth on this guy.
“It’s not a complaint—it’s just a fact.” I bring my foot up behind me and press my heel to my ass, stretching out my quads. “Don’t you ever want to sleep in? Be lazy?”
“No.”
“Well, not all of us are superhuman like you.” No reaction. He doesn’t even crack a smile. “You know I just love the drill sergeant routine. So broody. So grumpy.”
Nothing.
“Okay, hard-ass, what next?”
He circles me, looking me up and down like I’m a horse he wants to buy. It’s unsettling and heats me up from the inside out.
“Come on. You’re not concentrating in here, so you’ll just get hurt.”
“Where are we going?”
“Shooting range.”
Honestly, shooting is my least favorite thing. I don’t hate the obstacle course anymore, but we’ve been avoiding it because of the snow. The gym is okay. I’d rather run outside, but it’s slick, and I don’t have the proper shoes for it.
The shooting range makes me nervous. I know I’m safe, but I hate the noise, and I often have to breathe and count in my head to keep myself in the present and not get thrown back to that horrible night. My nightmares are usually worse after we’ve worked in the range, especially if it’s been a long lesson.
I haven’t told him that, though. I refuse to complain, and he’s not wrong when he says that it’s stuff I need to learn. It could save my life someday.
It’s snowing like crazy as we hustle from the gym over to the indoor range.
“Come here,” Gideon says, crooking his finger at me. He’s standing in front of the door to the armory. I never go in there. I’ve never been invited, and he keeps it locked down so tight, I assume it’s off limits to me. “You can choose your weapon today.”