Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Why did I let him leave?
I press my forehead to the door, groaning. Is this really who I am now? So broken that I'm terrified of reaching for what I want? So timid that I just let the chance of happiness slip through my fingers?
He screwed up back then…but I'm not innocent either, am I? His cousin told me that he left, and I believed it. So much so that I packed up and ran all the way back home without even trying to call him to demand an explanation.
If he's guilty of not fighting for me…doesn't that make me guilty, too?
It does. I know it does. And we've both been paying for it ever since.
Well, I'm tired of paying for it. I'm tired of regret. I'm tired of missing him. He's here right now, practically begging me for a second chance. So why the hell am I standing here, fighting what I want?
I yank the door open, prepared to run after him. "Rid…"
His name dies on my lips when I see him standing in front of me, his hands bracketed on either side of the doorframe as if he's physically restraining himself from ripping it off the hinges to get back inside.
His wild eyes meet mine, his chest heaving like he just ran five miles. "I couldn't leave, Dimples. Fuck. I couldn't walk away from you again. I know I won't survive it."
He looks like he's drowning, the fires of hell burning in his gaze. I know exactly how he feels. I feel them licking at my soul, too, threatening to burn me alive.
"Then don't," I whisper.
He groans, the sound so loud and pained, I know making it had to hurt his throat. But I don't have time to think about that before we're crashing into one another like nebulae colliding again. The shockwave melds us into a single tangle of arms and legs and clawing desperation. We tumble to the floor just inside the door in a heap, our gasps lost to the way our lips fuse together.
My legs splay around his hips as he rolls us so I'm on top of him. I cry out against his lips when I feel the hard ridge of his cock against my pussy. There's no stopping the way I rock against him, just to feel him against my clit.
"Christ, baby," he groans, his hands full of my ass as he helps me move on top of him. "Keep rocking just like that. Come all over me."
"I want…want to see it."
"You want to see yourself come?"
"No. Your cock."
"Jesus," he growls, his hips arching into mine again. His hands fall from my ass, ripping through the button on his pants. He tugs the zipper down with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
I bat his hand out of the way before he can slip it inside.
"Fuck!" he groans, his head thumping against the hardwood floor when I thrust my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around his thick length.
"Missed this," I whisper, pulling him out. My fingers glide across the broad head, already sticky with precum. I stroke him, watching the play of emotion across his face. The need in his eyes sears me as pleasure chases desire across his gorgeous face.
"Missed you, too, baby. Christ, I missed you every fucking day." His hands dig into my thighs, his pinkies millimeters from my pussy. "I missed every goddamn thing about you."
"Show me how much," I demand, stroking him from root to tip.
He hooks an arm around my waist, rolling us again. I end up on my back beneath him with him hovering over me on his knees, his dick still in my hand. It falls from my grip when he rips my shirt off over my head.
His lips close around one hard nipple. He sucks, and the pleasure throbs against my clit. He's barely even started, and I already feel him everywhere, like a fever burning me up.
I'm not sure I'm going to survive it.
His hands slide down my body, leaving trails of fire everywhere he touches me. His teeth scrape my nipple as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. With one quick yank, they're around my knees, right alongside my panties.
He lifts his head, his eyes glittering with intent. "Are you dripping for me yet, Dimples?"
"Yes. God yes, Ridley." I have been all damn night. Even when I didn't want to admit it, I wanted him. Even when I was mad as hell, my body was primed and ready for him. Wine didn't tamp the flames. Neither did my bath.
"Good." His lips slide down my body. He nips and sucks and bites, turning me into a sobbing, panting mess beneath him. But he doesn't touch me where I need him most. He touches me everywhere but there, leaving me desperate beneath him.