Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
"Legion," I laugh. "We'll be late."
"You're the one who started it," he says, rolling us over so I'm beneath him. "And I'm not done with you yet."
His mouth finds my breast, teeth grazing my nipple in a way that makes me arch off the blanket. All thoughts of dinner, of the outside world, vanish from my mind. There's only Legion and me and this moment, stretching out like forever.
His hands are everywhere at once—sliding down my sides, gripping my thighs, lifting my hips to meet his. Then he’s workin’ his way down my body with deliberate slowness, tasting every inch of me. The scratch of his stubble against my inner thighs makes me shiver, and when his mouth finally finds me, I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he works me with his tongue, bringing me to the edge again and again without letting me fall. It's exquisite torture. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he slides two fingers inside me, curling them forward to hit that spot that makes me see stars.
I come apart beneath him, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it borders on pain. But he doesn't stop. He keeps going, relentless, until I'm writhing beneath him, oversensitive and desperate.
Then he's moving up my body, positioning himself between my legs, and entering me in one smooth thrust. The fullness, the rightness of him inside me makes me gasp.
But this time, neither of us are hard and desperate. We're soft and slow. He fucks me deep this time. His eyes never leaving mine. And as he moves within me, I have a dream. I paint pictures of a future I've never allowed myself to imagine before.
I see us in a house—not a mansion like the one I grew up in, but something real. Something ours. Maybe a renovated farmhouse with wide porches and room to breathe. Legion fixing motorcycles in a detached garage while I tend to a garden that actually grows things we eat instead of just looking pretty for Instagram.
I see children—two, three, maybe more—with his wild blond hair and my blue eyes, running through tall grass with dirty knees and fearless hearts. Legion teaching them to ride bikes and throw punches. Me teaching them to ride horses and be polite.
I see family dinners where everyone talks at once, homework spread across kitchen tables, Christmas mornings with handmade stockings hung by the fireplace. Legion reading bedtime stories in his deep voice, making all the character voices despite his protests that he's terrible at it.
I see us growing older together, watching our children become adults with their own lives, their own loves. Legion's hair going gray at the temples, laugh lines deepening around his eyes. My hands becoming more like my mother's, but gentler. Kinder.
And through it all, I see us like this—tangled together, his body moving within mine, that connection that goes beyond the physical. That thing that makes me feel like I've finally found home after a lifetime of searching.
Legion changes the angle, hitting deeper, and the fantasy dissolves as pleasure overtakes me again. He flips us over without breaking our connection, so I'm on top again. His hands guide my hips as I ride him, setting a pace that has us both gasping.
Then he's sitting up, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as we move together. It's almost unbearably intimate—our bodies completely aligned, foreheads touching, breath mingling. I can feel him everywhere, inside and out.
When he comes, it triggers my own release, and we cling to each other through the aftershocks, neither willing to let go first.
As our breathing slows, I rest my head on his shoulder, unwilling to break the spell just yet. In this moment, that future I imagined doesn't seem so impossible. Not with him. Not if we're together.
But reality is waiting just outside this hunting blind.
Dinner with Havoc and June.
The leaked videos.
My family.
His club.
All the forces trying to pull us apart.
For now, though, I let myself believe in that farmhouse, those wild-haired children, that life where Legion and I get to be just us, without the weight of our names or our pasts.
CHAPTER 7
Heaven is the awareness that you're not in Hell.
That's how I feel right now.
Like I'm not in Hell.
Watching Savannah in her dress that was given to her through some 'gifting' ritual that I had no idea even existed. It's a simple thing, cotton and comfortable, nothing like the designer labels she used to wear, but somehow it suits her more. Fits her like it was made for the woman she's becoming, not the one she was pretending to be.
It's nice though. That the women here have their own traditions, or whatever. For many reasons, not least of which we didn't have to go shopping for Savannah right away because she came here with nothing but the clothes on her back.