Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
The instant the door shuts, his anger seems to bleed from his bones, replaced by a low, anguished grunt. His knees buckle as my name dies in his throat. Even as he breaks down, he’s still protecting me, his body cushioning my fall as we collapse into a tangled mess of heightened emotions and quaking limbs.
“Losing you would kill me.” He grips my cheeks, rich brown eyes smoldering through his tears. “If you want to go over that cliff, you’ll have to take me with you.”
“Don’t say that.” Cold-soaked fear shakes me to my core. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”
“Maybe not, but you meant to jump.” Several seconds pass, long pain-filled beats that snowball into a momentous amount of heartache. “You love him so much that you’d die to end the pain of losing him. I feel the same way. There is no me without you, Novalee.”
“But he’s gone,” I sob, my spirit cracking right along with my voice. I want to rescind the words and lock them in a place where they can’t be heard, because they reek of acceptance.
God…no. Please, I’m not ready.
“But I’m here.” Liam gives a hard swallow. “I need you, so if you can’t keep going for you, then do it for me.” He shakes his head, sending snowflakes tumbling from his coppery hair. “Because I can’t lose you.”
“It just hurts too much. I can’t…I can’t hold on. I’m falling apart.”
“Then let me hold on to you.” He slides a hand into my hair, tucking the damp strands behind my ear, and I draw a sharp breath. Suddenly, I’m hyper aware of how close we are.
My chest pressed to his.
Our lips inches apart.
And in that instant…
I’m no longer cold.
Not as long as he’s warm and solid, his frame shielding me from the chilly floor, the rapid thumps of his heart binding me to the moment. Awareness hangs between us, as dangerous as a live wire, dormant but never forgotten.
“Liam…” His name comes out in a hoarse whisper, a prelude to the inevitable collision of our mouths.
He meets me halfway, and every stroke of his tongue demands my surrender. I match him, lick for lick, desperation unraveling me as my nails bite into his shoulders.
A groan rumbles through him. “What are we doing, Novalee? I just pulled you back from a fucking cliff.”
“I don’t care.” I yank his lips to mine again.
“Well, I do.” And yet the nip of his teeth down my throat says otherwise. He blazes a wet path, each rough kiss detonating something deep inside me.
Frantic, I reach for the waistband of his pajama pants and expose his cock. Curling my fingers around the growing length, I move my fist up and down his velvety flesh in steady, firm strokes.
“Damn,” he says, teeth clenched, eyelids drifting shut to hide his weak grip on control.
But a man as passionate and possessive as the chancellor can only take so much.
With a swift motion, Liam rolls me onto my back, and the blanket slips away to leave me bare. His intense gaze searches my expression, drinking in every nuance—the tremble in my lips, the flush in my cheeks, the plea in my stare.
The world comes to a standstill, the air between us thickening with unspoken words.
Undeniable need.
Our eyes stay locked as he dips two fingers inside me, and a flood of energy bursts from my core. My mouth parts, drawing his focus as I release a soundless gasp.
I can’t remember the last time he touched me like this. On his private island, after he kidnapped me for my own good? Some other forgotten, stolen moment since then? The preceding weeks stream through my conscious mind, but it’s all too much.
Too much pain.
Too much betrayal.
Too. Much.
I’m tired of thinking. I only want to feel.
Only want to lose myself in the sweet ache of his touch, the featherlight drift of my thoughts, the quiet way his soul reaches for mine.
As I arch into his hand, chasing the friction and dizzying highs, he bows his forehead to mine. Our breaths tangle, my exhales becoming his inhales, while his fingers work their way deeper, venturing as far as my virginity will allow. My hips move in rhythm with each thrust, greedy for the promise of release.
“More,” I plead. “Make me forget.”
His face darkens. “Does this make you want to live?” Liam’s harsh question drips with renewed anger. “My fingers inside you? Does it make it all better?”
“It makes it bearable.”
His gaze falters, and just like that, the bitterness drains from him. I can almost hear his internal struggle, feel the weight of what happens next pressing on his shoulders. He withdraws his fingers and lowers his head to my chest, warmth spilling across my skin, his muscles knotted with restraint, silence louder than words.
Because he wants this as much as I need it.