Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“Greyson?” Her voice sounded raspy and unsure.
“Yeah.”
“Did you just...”
Embarrassed by his own actions, he shoved his cock back into his pants and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Needed to.” He pressed a kiss to her thigh, stood, and stilled.
She was a fucking vision, lying on his bed half naked and spent. It took everything in him not to go back to the bed and fuck her raw. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold off with her lying there like a partially wrapped present. “You should get dressed.”
She slowly sat up, face flushed, breasts rosy, and hair falling out of her once tidy braid. She was a fucking goddess.
A crease formed between her brows. “Can we talk about what just happened?”
He braced his arms on the dresser, keeping his back toward her but watching her in the reflection as she awkwardly adjusted her shirt. “What’s there to talk about?” Dropping his gaze, his hands curled into fists. Those fingers had been inside of her. Inside of Wren.
“Can you look at me?”
He could barely look at himself. Lifting his head, he met her stare in the mirror. This wasn’t the Wren he’d watched clumsily stumble through the third grade or the gawky girl he used to play manhunt with in the woods. This Wren was dangerous. And he could still taste her.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.” He could feel his control slipping.
“I’m fine with what just happened, Grey.”
“Good.” Chances were, now that they’d crossed that line, it would happen again. No matter what he fucking wanted.
Apparently, he’d lost all willpower where she was concerned.
“It would be easier if you faced me.”
He turned, leaning his hip against the dresser and crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’re acting weird.”
“I’m acting like myself.”
“You won’t even look at me.”
He met her stare. Couldn’t she figure out why this was difficult? He’d just come and was ready to bust another nut from simply looking at her. Only, next time, it wouldn’t be in his hand. “Do you have questions?”
She blushed and dropped her gaze. “N-no. But... I can’t act like you didn’t just...”
“Eat your pussy.”
She flinched. “Do you have to be so crude?”
“It’s not crude. It’s what I did. It’s what made you come. Again and again. You said you wanted to talk about it. How can we talk about it if you can’t even hear the words?”
“You’re purposely trying to shock me.”
Maybe he was. He wasn’t thinking clearly at the moment.
Despite blowing his load in the shower and again in his hand, all he wanted to do was wrap that braid around his fist, and fuck her hard. Every part of her. Her pussy. Her mouth. Her virgin asshole. Jesus. “You should probably go.”
Her stare jumped to his and she blinked rapidly, pink glistening in the whites of her eyes. “What?” Her jaw quivered.
He died a thousand deaths under that sad stare. But that was for the best. This was the most he could offer. “I can’t give you…” How the fuck did he make this clear without crushing her. “I tried to warn you, Wren.”
She looked ready to throw something at him. “You know, you can really be a complete bastard sometimes.” She slid off the bed, her steps unsteady.
“I know.” He warned her. But she didn’t listen.
She dressed quickly and it took everything in him not to go to her. “Where’s the kitten?”
“He’s in the spare room.”
“Have you checked on him lately?”
“He’s handled.”
She looked over her shoulder, skepticism narrowing her eyes. “I’ll check on him before I go.” Shoving her feet into her little boots, she left the room.
He exhaled hard and rubbed his chest. The ache returned. Drawing in a few deep breaths, he looked up at the rafters and counted silently to ten, then went after her.
Wren sat on the floor of the spare room, cross-legged, holding Rat against her face as she scratched his little head and made kissy sounds in his ear. “When did he last eat?”
Did she think he neglected his duties? “Little over an hour ago. He’s not due to eat again until ten.”
“You can’t just leave him in here, Greyson—“
“First of all, he only stayed in here so I could shower. He’s been with me all day.”
The little rodent fit perfectly in his pocket, and no one seemed to mind when he brought him into town this afternoon to run a few errands.
She gave him a doubtful look. “He needs companionship, especially at this age.”
“Rat’s fine. I don’t need a lecture.”
“Ugh, please stop calling him that. His name is Tinsel.” She kissed his head and set him back on the blankets Greyson had laid out. “You should probably put a space heater in here so he doesn’t get cold.”
He scooped Rat up and cradled him in his arm. There was no reason for a heater. The cat was alone for no more than a few minutes—tonight was an exception, but he hadn’t been expecting company. The damn thing even slept with him.