Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
What we just did was mind-blowing, and he seemed to know exactly how to handle me to draw out my submission. And my orgasms.
“How did you know that I would like this?” I clarify.
“Like what?”
“You being mean to me.”
He ruffles my hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Was I mean? I seem to remember you coming all over my hand.”
“Yes.” I giggle. “You were very cruel.”
He laughs. “You haven’t exactly been secretive about wanting me to be in control. You said it yourself when I was coming to meet you at Clifford’s Tower yesterday.”
“I was joking.”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” He rests his forehead against mine. “We’re a good match.”
We’re a perfect match. It’s so similar to what Bones said to me before the hunt.
He’d scared me with that intense declaration, and a shadow of that fear flits across my mind now.
How can I let Rand into my heart?
Not safe.
If I let myself care about him, something bad will happen.
It always does.
He touches two fingers beneath my chin. “What are you thinking?”
I shake my head, mulling over my tangled feelings.
It’s dangerous to want him.
And not just because he’s my professor.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confess on a ragged whisper.
His brow furrows. “About what?”
“This.” I press my hand to his chest, feeling our undeniable connection. “What’s happening between us.”
He cocks his head at me. “It scares you.”
I suppress a shiver. He reads me so easily.
“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he murmurs. “That’s the last thing I want. How can I make you more comfortable?”
“I…” I swallow hard. “I think I need some space.”
His arms flex around me, pulling me closer. He takes a breath and forces himself to relax.
I slip out of his embrace and get to my feet. My knees shake, and he holds my hips to steady me.
When I’m confident I won’t fall on my butt, I step back.
His eyes are tight with anguish. “Don’t say you regret it.”
Drawn to comfort him, I trace the taut line of his square jaw. “I don’t regret it. I just need space.”
His nostrils flare, and his entire body tenses, as though it’s taking all of his willpower to remain seated instead of reaching for me.
Even though it obviously pains him, he’s honoring my consent.
I soften towards him, but I don’t allow myself to close the distance between us.
“I just need to think, and I can’t be rational when I’m near you,” I say quietly.
He gives me a jerky nod. “I’ll never force myself on you. But know that I don’t need time to think. I don’t want to be rational. I just want you, and that’s it.”
I take another step back.
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“Will I see you again?” he grinds out. “Outside of class.”
My throat constricts, but I manage a nod.
“To protect you from your stalker,” he concludes bitterly.
“I want to see you,” I promise quietly. “I’m not just using you as a shield.”
He blows out a long breath, but he remains stiff. “Go, then. Text me when you’re ready to talk.”
My feet seem to drag across the carpet in heavy, reluctant steps, but I manage to walk out of his office.
I’m enamored with my professor, and I don’t know what to do about it.
20
KAROLINA
I’m exhausted the next day. Last night, I tried to write a steamy scene for my romantic fantasy novel, but the spice kept turning into angst. It didn’t provide the usual outlet I find in my creative work.
All I can think about is Rand.
He’d looked devastated when I pulled away.
I just want you, and that’s it.
My stomach flips at the memory of his fierce promise. I try to ignore the strange tugging sensation in my chest, but I know what it is: yearning.
I want this connection.
It terrifies me, but I want it anyway.
I’ve been alone for so long. The prospect of ending that loneliness is terribly tempting.
For years, my surface-level relationship with Bones has fulfilled me just enough to keep me in denial. I’ve pretended I’m not devastatingly lonely because at least I’ve had one person in my life who knows my real name. He knows my carnal secrets.
But he doesn’t truly know me. I haven’t let him.
And he’s never shared himself with me, either.
It’s time to end things with my masked man. I can’t just ghost him.
I owe him more than that.
I’ve been wandering through town in a daze, making sure to stick to the most well-trafficked areas. Following the shifting crowds of tourists, I make my way to York Minster.
The imposing cathedral is awe-inspiring: centuries of intricately carved, golden-hued masonry have been consistently maintained by each generation; the citizens of York have prevented it from falling into ruin.
The edifice is immaculate thanks to hundreds of years of community care.
It makes my heart ache. In the face of such tight interpersonal bonds represented by one building, I feel more isolated than ever.