Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
He blinks once, still laughing, but his glassy gaze stabilizes a bit, a flash of light showing through.
And it’s…fascinating.
Like a lightning bolt in the darkness.
“Go ahead,” he says through his laughter. “Hit me.”
“I’m the wrong person to tell that. I enjoy hitting people a bit too much.”
“Go on, then. Show me how much you enjoy it. Or do you prefer I call you names before you do that—”
His words end in a grunt as I slam my fist into his face, sending it flying sideways. Then I do it again. And again.
He practically vibrates beneath my fist, his entire body coming alive.
But not as much as mine.
Because fuck. I’ve never hit someone this…way. Like I want to fuck them into the tree while I’m beating them to within an inch of their lives.
I want to bend him over and pound his ass as I spank him, drive my fingers into his loud mouth, and make him suck on them, choke on them, as his saliva drips down my fingers—
Fucking hell.
I’m hard as I keep pummeling him.
He takes it all, letting me bloody his beautiful face that he takes extreme pride in. It’s not a secret that he’s an egotistical maniac with enough arrogance to rival Narcissus.
But he’s letting me beat him.
Me, the rat from the slums, as he likes to call me.
Me, the guy who he thinks is so far beneath him, I don’t exist on his radar.
And it’s making my dick hard.
His bloody face, his shaking body, even his manic laughter.
Everything about Preston Armstrong calls to me in ways that disturb me.
And I want more.
More.
Just…something more.
Wait.
What do we have here…?
Despite the dim light, I catch a glimpse of a thick bulge in Armstrong’s pants.
Did he just get…hard by being beaten?
I mean, my cock is just shy of solid, but I have sadistic tendencies.
My eyes widen the slightest, a rush of something primal and overpowering slithering between my aching bones.
Does this mean he could be what I’m thinking he is?
My gaze flits to his, and I can’t see his expression in the dark. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, what he looks like, what the meaning of this is.
“You—”
“Don’t talk.” He growls deep in his throat. There’s pain, but there’s something my animal side latches on to like an aphrodisiac—lust.
“Shut up and hit me,” he whispers low, so low that I barely hear him.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I curse beneath my breath when I spot two shadows.
Literally Preston’s shadows. Kane and Jude.
Things will get complicated real fast if they catch me and find out how I was able to gain access to the Armstrongs’ private property.
With a low grumble, I shove him against a tree trunk and cast one last look at his face.
Bloody, confused, unhinged, aroused.
But there’s something else.
As he looks up at me, he sinks his teeth into the corner of his lip, biting down so hard, his glassy eyes shift subtly, almost as if…in fear?
I don’t get to study it properly as I pull my hood up and run off, disappearing between the trees.
I don’t go far, though.
Maybe I can’t.
Maybe I don’t want to.
Maybe I want to see that look one more time.
It took everything in me just now not to reach for him and do…what, exactly?
With a muted breath, I hide behind one of the trees, far enough away that I can only see their shadows.
An owl cries in the distance as Preston stands up. I recognize him right away as he blocks Kane’s path, his stance wide, his shoulders squared, no longer like the ghost of himself I left behind.
Kane shoves past him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’ll chase.” Jude starts to run toward me, but Preston slams a hand to his chest.
Preston, the smaller of the three, is single-handedly stopping both of them.
“He’s my prey. Back off.”
Hmm.
I wouldn’t say I’m his prey. If anything, it’s the other way around, but his words still put a smile on my face.
He called me something of his.
Is that supposed to be entertaining?
“I haven’t seen you this injured in a long time,” Kane says. “You sure he’s the prey?”
Touché.
“Of course he is.” Preston laughs in that disturbed, unhinged way, throwing his head back.
“He’s lost his mind again,” Jude says.
Again.
I tap my middle finger against my thumb.
That means Preston is prone to losing his mind?
Why?
Kane steps farther into his space. “Who is he, Preston?”
His laughter finally dies out, but there’s still an edge to his words. “He dared to hunt me in my own goddamn place. Love that!”
Happy to serve.
Jude hits him upside the head. “You should’ve let us catch him, dumbass.”
Preston’s fit of laughter returns as he practically bounces in place. “No, I’m going to hunt him, too, before I chop him into tiny little pieces. Oh my, I’m getting hard thinking about it. I’m so fucking hard.”