Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Melissa hugs her free arm around herself and I watch her take in the view. The vast gray sea, the wild waves in the constant wind.
“This is unbelievable.”
“It’s the most beautiful place on earth.”
She turns to me. “How did you leave it?”
Her question reminds me why we’re here and I tug her along, walking fast, catching her when she trips on the jagged rocks. A few moments later, we’re inside a small opening in the cliffs, sheltered from the rain but with a view of all of it.
But it’s not that I look at. It’s her.
I think about what I felt when Alice told me the three of them had gone into town. How James had been so sweet holding her hand. I think about how they were together, cozy in the bakery. A ready-made family.
Melissa turns to me and her smile vanishes. I’m not sure she’s aware that she’s taken a step away from me.
“What is it?” she asks.
She puts her hands against my chest when I step toward her, walk her backward to the wall.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere with him again.”
“What?”
I unzip my too-big jacket that she’s wearing and open it, unbutton her sweater and open that too, then take her breasts out of the cups of the bra, tucking them underneath the heavy mounds. I cup them, weigh them. Knead the nipples into hard points.
“What are you doing?”
I meet her eyes and keep them locked as I unbutton her jeans, unzip them and tug them down to mid-thigh.
I look at her like this and it’s almost pornographic, her half-dressed, half-naked. My gaze slides from her eyes to her lips to her breasts and finally, to the slit of her sex. With a hand at the back of her head, I pull her to me, kiss her.
“You’re mine, Melissa. Mine. This mouth, it’s mine,” I say, crushing my lips to hers, sliding my hands to her breasts again, taking them in my palms. “These breasts are mine. This pussy,” I start, lowering one hand to cup it while with the other, I undo my jeans, push them down only as far as I need to.
“Hawk—”
“This pussy,” I say, bending at the knees to get underneath her and thrust hard into her.
She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders.
“This pussy is mine,” I say against her mouth, pumping into her once, twice before pulling out.
I take her by a handful of hair and spin her around so the side of her face is at the cave wall and with my other hand, I finger her pussy and drag the moisture there to her back hole.
Because that’s mine too. And it’s time I claimed it.
“Every part of you is mine,” I say, bending my knees again, pushing against the tight hole. “You belong to me, Melissa.”
I rub against her, using my fingers to collect more of the moisture, rub it into her. I tug on her hair and she watches when I spit into the palm of my hand and rub my dick.
“Mine. Not his. Not anyone’s.”
When I take her clit between my fingers, it’s like pushing a magic button because her muscles relax, and I push the head of my cock into her ass and it’s tight and hot and all mine. All fucking mine.
“Hawk,” she starts, gasping for breath.
“And when you see him again, you’ll feel me inside you. You’ll remember me inside you. You’ll remember you belong to me.”
The last part I say as I thrust deeply and thoroughly.
Her head is bent backward, and I kiss her mouth, her throat, bite the curve of her neck.
“Hawk,” she starts, almost panting, and I hug her to me, fucking her harder, faster. She fists her hands against the wall and when she comes, she calls out my name again.
I thrust once more, deep and hard, and as I feel her throb around me, I come too, and it’s with a roar that’s more animal than human.
Because I am an animal and I’m staking my claim when I empty inside her.
Melissa is mine.
All fucking mine.
29
Melissa
My knees give out and he holds me up as he slides out of me. He pulls up his jeans first, then tugs mine up because I can’t seem to move. He’s rougher than he needs to be, and I feel his breath at my cheek.
I turn to look at him and I think about what he said. About being his. Belonging to him. And it feels like this is different than our strange arrangement.
“When I went to my father with my allegations against Ann, I was naïve,” he starts, surprising me with this.
He walks away, sits on a stone.
I remain where I am and watch him even though he keeps his gaze outside.
“I should have waited to have solid proof although who knows what he’d have done even with that. He was so completely in love with her and she just had him wrapped around her manipulative little finger. She made him choose. Me or her. It couldn’t be both. And my father chose. And then I chose. I don’t think he expected me to leave.”