Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"Loving you is terrifying," I mutter when she kisses my cheek. "I'm so fucking afraid I'm going to mess it up and lose you. I've never wanted to feel this way about anyone, but now that I have?" I shake my head, at a loss for words. "I'd fucking kill to keep it, Mila. To keep you."
"I feel the same way. I've never felt like this before, Roman. Sometimes, it's too much. When you're inside me, when you're fucking me, I feel like loving you is going to rip me apart. I'm going to come for you one day, and I'm just going to float away." She laughs softly. "It's terrifying and addicting at the same damn time."
"I won't let you float away," I promise, smiling. She's so fucking cute. Christ, she kills me. I think I love hearing her talk about fucking me in that sweet voice almost as much as I love hearing her cry out my name. She has the mouth of a sailor sometimes, and I can't get enough of it.
"I don't think I'd mind floating away."
"Yeah?"
"I love the way you fuck me, Roman. You're like a force of nature." She laughs again, wriggling her sexy little ass in my lap.
"Mila," I warn her, stilling her with my hands on her hips. A warning growl rumbles in my throat.
"Oh, simmer down," she grumbles, her tone laced with amusement. She's teasing me again, and she's doing it intentionally. "I already know you aren't going to fuck me. I'm injured. Blah, blah, blah." She waves her hand in the air dismissively. "I know the rules, Mr. Gregory."
Fuck. Why does her calling me that turn me on so goddamn much? It's honestly a little fucked up how hot I find it when she calls me Mr. Gregory. I don't even know why it makes me hard, but it does.
I think she knows it, too. She grinds her ass against my erection, moaning loudly.
"Mila," I warn again.
She ignores me because of-fucking-course she does. One hand slides up my chest. The other curls around my bicep. She grinds against me again, wriggling until the bulge in my jeans bumps against her clit with every move she makes.
I grit my teeth and clench my hands around her hips, fighting for the willpower to tell her no again.
"I'll make it good for you, Mr. Gregory," she teases me, breathing heavily. "I promise I will."
"Fuck," I growl, bucking my hips. I tip her head back and bite her lip hard, punishing her for fucking with me. She's always pushing me, trying to make me lose control. "You're a pain in the ass, Mila. I swear to fucking Christ…"
"You love it," she moans when I pull her shirt up, exposing her tits.
She's right. I do love it.
I stare down at the phone in my hand, using one finger to flick back and forth between the home screen and the dial pad, trying to convince myself to hit the button to call Brady. I've been putting it off for days, for a lot of reasons I'm still trying to work through. Like Mila. Now that she's mine, I get why Brady brought Carla and Andres into our way of life. But now that she's mine, I'm even more pissed that he put them in harm's way. I can't imagine ever fucking slipping up when it could cost me my daughter or the woman who's quickly becoming a vital part of my world.
"Just call him already," Mila says, running one hand through my hair.
I glance over my shoulder to find her sitting up in the bed behind me. She's completely naked, her hair as wild as ever. Her skin glows in the dim light emanating from the lamp. I don't think I'll ever get used to the warm feeling that spreads out from my chest when I see her looking so soft and sweet.
She gives me a small smile and nods at the phone. "You can't avoid him forever," she tells me.
She's right. Still….
"I didn't mean to wake you up," I mutter, stalling.
She runs her fingers through my hair again. "I wasn't asleep. I was thinking."
"About what?"
"You." She smiles again, her eyes lighting up in the dim room.
Christ, she's sweet.
"I haven't talked to him since it happened."
"You're still mad at him," she guesses.
I nod.
"So tell him that." She scoots forward until she's right up against me, pressing her tits into my back. Her lips ghost across the tattoo on my upper back as she lays her head on my shoulder, hugging me from behind. "Tell him that he's an asshole. Tell him you want to kick his ass. Tell him whatever you need to tell him. Just call him, Roman. You've been putting it off for long enough already."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do," she says, and I feel her shrug against my back.