Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I blink long and hard.
“But what does it matter, right?” I force a laugh. “Nothing I do will make a difference. May as well help my family and numb myself with pretty shoes and handbags while I’m at it.”
As if that will distract me from knowing I was sold, because contrary to what he and my mother discuss about my future, I’m neither ignorant nor naïve.
I toss the blanket down, wiping away the tears. Screw it. I’ll sleep in my car.
But then he’s there, his body pressing into my back and his hands squeezing my waist.
I gasp. “No.” I try to push his hands away.
No more. No more. I drop my head back into him, trying to push against him, but I’m not sure if I’m fighting to get free or fighting because I want to hit someone. Tears stream down my face, and I suck in breath after breath.
But then I feel it.
His shallow breaths against my temple. And his arms slowly slipping around my body, holding me to him.
Slow. Tight. Strong. Warm.
I go still, his heat covering my back as his chest rises and falls against my spine, and I relax just enough to feel him hold me up. One arm wraps around my stomach, the other hand reaches around to cup my cheek as he grazes his mouth over my hair.
“We’re not dead yet,” he murmurs over my skin at my temple.
And then he turns my head, and before I can see his face, his mouth covers mine, swallowing my whimper. His tongue dives into my mouth, and I can’t breathe as he holds me strong and keeps me locked against his body.
Fuck …
My lungs scream, and fire covers my skin. I gasp, pulling my mouth away and inhaling air, but it takes only a second before he’s fisting my hair and biting my neck.
I cry out, electricity coursing down my thighs and up to the top of my head. I close my eyes, my heart leaping into my throat as he forces my shirt over my head, my arms flying up as he tears the fabric off me.
Pulling his mouth off my skin, he holds my tummy, unzipping my skirt, and I look down, watching his hand in the dark. The same Jaeger bracelet they all wear—three thin straps of brown leather entwined—circles his wrist with the emblem of the snake wrapped around an hourglass in the middle.
My skirt drops, and he takes my hand, guiding it down between my thighs as he gently peels my panties off until the tips of my fingers touch my wet clit.
“Keep going,” he whispers, kissing my hair.
A light sweat covers my forehead, and I can’t move. I can’t even think.
He devours my neck and kneads my breast as heat rushes between my legs and covers my body. I pant, whimpering. “Oh God,” I moan. “Stop, stop, please. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
But he thrusts into me from behind, his jeans creating delicious friction on my ass. Almost touching the sensitive skin deep inside.
I bite my bottom lip so hard, I feel a sharp pain.
And I can’t stop. I don’t even care. I pull my underwear all the way off before I lean back into him, resting my head against his chest and rubbing myself slowly, riding my hand and knowing that he’s watching.
I close my eyes again, loving the feel of his hands on me, and smelling his hot skin, which reminds me of wood and earth and fuel and grease. Loving how the Jaeger boys wear their work on their clothes, and don’t get their muscle any other way.
He grows harder, resting his chin on the top of my head as he just holds my right hip in one hand and grips my ass with the other.
I rub the nub, starting to feel the tingle. A little more. I suck in a breath. A little more. I like him watching me. His fingers curl into my skin, digging, pulling, wanting me to fuck myself harder.
“Ah,” I groan. “Ah.” I roll and bounce harder and faster, and then …
He growls, yanks me back into his body, and cuts off my breath again, kissing me.
But before I can come, he leads me down onto the couch, flat on my stomach, and comes down behind me. I immediately lift my knee, opening myself up, and listen to him rip off his belt.
I squeeze the couch in my fist, my stomach pressing into the cool leather.
His hand presses into the sofa, next to my shoulder, and I moan as his fingers glide down my spine.
I feel his breath on my ear. “Krisjen,” he whispers, and goose bumps cover my body. “Don’t tell Trace about this.”
Trace won’t care, but I nod anyway.
He works the head of his cock inside me, takes hold of me on both sides where my thighs meet my hips, and thrusts.