Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Now that I've tasted that sweet mouth and bitten that flawless skin, now that the truth is finally out there, hell itself won't be enough to stop me from putting my hands all over her, over and over again.
Need hums along every inch of my skin, settling deep into my bones. Desire shakes me to the fucking core, fogging my thoughts until all I can think about is Elsie, all I see is her. Her cheeks flush deep red, and her chest heaves as she sucks in breath after breath. Her eyes are wide and wild. Her lips, swollen from my kisses, part to form my name.
"Noah."
My heart skips a beat, then slams faster at the way she says it, as if she has to. As if she has to taste it on her lips.
She lifts a trembling hand toward me.
My cock jerks as I stare at her, memorizing her in this moment—hair tangled around her face, hand shaking as she reaches out. Her eyes beg me to touch her, to quiet the storm raging inside her.
I wrap my fingers around her wrist, light as a whisper.
Her shoulders slump into relief, and I haul her closer, until her breasts press against my chest and I can wrap my arms around her. She fits naturally, her body curling into mine like she belongs right here. Fuck, she does. This right here is precisely where she was made to fit.
I hold her for one perfect moment, my face buried in her hair, hers buried in my chest. It feels so fucking right.
Thank God I didn't blow it tonight. Those ninety seconds after she shut the door were pure hell, laced with panic.
All I could think was that I'd damaged us beyond repair by admitting just how obsessed I am. If she'd walked away—my anchor, my light—what the fuck was I going to do?
For ninety seconds, the idea of living across the street without being allowed in her life ripped me apart. I need her. She makes this whole fucking world tolerable, helps me forget the sting of seeing a kid drop in a hail of bullets. My job—my whole goddamn life—sucks less with her in it.
Without her, what the fuck would I do?
"Shh," she murmurs, squeezing me. "Shh. I'm not going anywhere."
Only then do I realize I've asked the question out loud, my arms shaking around her. That thought still wrecks me, despite her arms around me. I'm not stupid enough to pretend otherwise.
Elsie Cameron holds my heart in her palm—and by some miracle, she isn't saying no.
Thank you, God. Just…fucking thank you.
I tilt her face up and kiss her hard, pouring every ounce of gratitude and worship into that kiss. This beautiful, brilliant woman owns me, and I've never been more okay with anything. I'm beyond okay with it, actually. I'm fucking ecstatic.
"I want to make love to you," I whisper against her lips, then pull back to show her what words can't capture—the adoration, the need, and the worship blazing in my eyes.
"Yes," she says without hesitation, so damn brave.
I kiss her again, then step back. I kick off my shoes on the spot, my gaze never leaving hers, saying what I can't put into words: that I need her to piece me back together and stop the ache gnawing at my bones. That I need her to let me love her in a way I haven't been allowed yet.
As my socks and tie land by my shoes, her answer burns like green fire in her eyes. She wants me in every way I come to her tonight, and she won't regret it tomorrow.
"Yes," a primal part of me whispers. "She's mine."
"Not yet," I say when she moves toward me. I unfasten my holster and lay my Glock on the table by the door. "Gun always gets put away first, baby. I won't risk you getting hurt."
Her body vibrates with need as I shed my jacket and shirt, letting them drop to the floor. My own body trembles, but I force myself not to press into her. I've waited for what feels like an eternity for this moment with her. I'm not about to rush it now.
Before I make love to her, I want her dancing that razor's edge where pleasure and pain blur into one. I want her absolutely certain that she'll never find anyone who can love her better. And when I take her, I want my name on her lips like a prayer she'll murmur long after. I want her to remember every moment of this night, because if I have my way, it's her last first time.
Her gaze slides away when I pop the button of my pants, drifting down… down… until it locks on my hand and the bulge beneath. Her body trembles, her fingers fluttering at her sides.