Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“Innocence never did anyone any good,” Kat says. “I may have lost my innocence to you, but in its place, I gained power.”
The fierceness in her eyes only arouses me more, a deep and chaotic longing that’s clawing its way to the surface.
“Kat,” I whisper to her, and then I’m grabbing her face in my hands, holding her in place, kissing her deeply, feeling every inch of her mouth with my tongue, wanting more, so much more.
I place one hand on her skirt, making a fist in the fabric, trying to hold myself back, and then she pulls her head away, breathing hard.
“Brom,” she says, her mouth wet and open, and God, I want her so badly it’s killing me.
“Yes?” I manage to say, removing my hand from her skirt, and trying to remain in control of my emotions and urges that threatening to overwhelm me.
“I…” she begins, picking up the stiff hay between her fingers, the light coming through the hole in the roof illuminating a faint flush on her cheeks. “I’m still menstruating,” she says, stumbling over the word. “It’s the last day I think, but it’s still…I’m not…”
“If you don’t want to be with me,” I tell her, placing my fingers under her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes, “then you don’t have to be. I might like things rough, but I’m not about to force myself on you if this isn’t what you want. I love you, Kat. But if you’re worried about blood, then you’re worrying for no reason. I want to be with you, just like this. I want to be inside you like I was four years ago.” My voice lowers. “I want to come inside you, spread my seed inside your cunt, make you scream my name until all of Sleepy Hollow knows who you belong to.”
She gives me a fearful look. “Crane will kill you.”
I raise a brow and lean in to her, still holding her head in place. “Is that the only reason I shouldn’t? Because Crane will kill me? And what about you?”
She licks her lips, and I want to do the same to her. “I don’t want to end up pregnant with your baby, Brom.”
Lord, how that stings. It fucking stings.
“I’m not saying never,” she goes on quickly, reading my face. “I’m not…” She closes her eyes. “I don’t know, Brom. I want to be with you. Just like this. Now and in the future, in all my futures…”
“But the horseman…”
“It’s not the horseman,” she says, looking at me with pain in her eyes. “It’s not just the horseman,” she corrects herself. “It’s that our union, our baby, is supposed to be a sacrifice to a demon. You said yourself, the anti-Christ. I’m not about to birth the anti-Christ. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t help but smile at how ridiculous we sound. “Oh, I understand,” I say, letting go of her. “I’m not too keen on fathering the anti-Christ myself, and that’s a phrase I never thought I would utter. But if you’re menstruating, you can’t get pregnant. That’s nature.” I pause, feeling the heady, possessive want for her to flare through me. “And what else is nature is the need to take what’s mine. And you’re still mine, Kat, no matter what anyone else says. You’re mine, aren’t you?”
She nods.
“Then lie back on that hay, hike up your dress, and spread your legs.”
Her blue eyes widen a little as she stares at me, and I’m not sure how she’ll take to me ordering her around. She liked it once. She likes it with Crane.
And with a shaking exhale, she leans back on the hay.
She obeys me.
A wicked thrill runs through me, the sense of power I’ve craved. Having the horseman at my disposal is one thing, having Kat obey me, and only me, is another.
She is submitting.
I am taking.
I get on my knees and come around her. “You said your innocence never did you any good. Show me, then, how bad you can be.” I place my hands on her calves, spreading her legs. “Lift up your skirt,” I tell her. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
“There’s blood,” she protests, as if I wasn’t aware of that.
“There was blood four years ago too,” I point out, putting my hands under her hem and running them up the cool skin of her calves. She doesn’t have stockings on, and even that feels illicit.
“I’m not even wearing…” she begins, putting her forearm across her eyes as if she can’t bear to watch me. “I ran out of cloth, so I don’t…it’s just…”
I have to admit, I’ve never been with a woman while she’s having her monthly bleeds, so part of me is drawn to the forbidden notion of it, of witnessing something so private and secret and raw. It gets me harder than anything.