Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
She lifted her head, and this time her voice ended on a condemning wail as her tear-drenched eyes met his. Her lashes were spiky and her face swollen from crying. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She looked at him with guilt, expecting him to condemn her.
He wrapped one hand around the nape of her neck, his fingers finding the knots of tension there. “When I was a boy, my parents were murdered in front of me.” He never opened that door. Never talked about it. Some things were best unsaid, but she needed to know she was human. Traumatized.
He exerted a little pressure, telling her silently to put her head on his chest so he wouldn’t have to look at her when he said the things necessary to calm her. She resisted. Master sighed. He was a fucking idiot for starting this in the first place.
“I know it’s not the same thing. I was a kid. This man, Sorbacov, my parents’ enemy, took me to a school run by pedophiles. There was a prison on the same grounds. Quite a few of the instructors at the school came from the prison. Sorbacov claimed he was going to shape us into assets for our country, assassins. I didn’t want to think about my parents and how they died. I wanted to learn how to fight and kill. I wanted to shape my body into a killing machine in order not to ever think about how my parents were murdered. A very wise man told me that was the brain’s way of protecting me. That’s what’s happening to you. You’ve got to let it happen. Let your brain process the information at the pace you can handle without making you insane.”
It was the most he’d said at any one time to someone outside the club that he could remember. Her eyes searched his and then she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest again. “Thank you. You didn’t have to tell me, and I know you didn’t want to.”
“You’re my wife. You have a right to know about me. I would have told you eventually.” He continued massaging her neck, thinking about it. “That might be a lie. I don’t know if I would have told you.”
A little muffled laugh mixed with a sob escaped. “I love that you’re so honest.”
“I’m rude and crude and you’re going to be embarrassed by half the things I say or do when you’re around your fancy-ass friends,” he corrected. His voice. He wished he could control the gravel in his tone that caused his voice to sound like he was going to commit murder any moment.
Again, her reaction shocked him. The arm around his neck tightened and she pressed closer to him, almost as if he were her lifeline. “That would show I have shocking taste in friends, and I don’t think I do.”
She made him want to smile. He kept gliding back and forth, listening to the wind in the trees, willing her to listen too. His fingers found the knots of tension in her right shoulder, worked at easing them.
“You would have liked my parents, Master.”
“If they were anything like you, I’m certain I would have.” He knew they would have been appalled that their beautiful, intelligent child had been placed into the path of a man with a prison record as long as his.
“My father pretended to be very exacting and strict with me. He was career military. So was my mother. She was the same way on the outside. Both were marshmallows with me on the inside.”
With her free hand she began to draw little patterns on the muscles of his thigh. He was covered with denim, and she had the blanket separating them, but she might as well have been licking his skin with her tongue the way his cock reacted, coming to life and pushing a demand against the backs of her legs.
Ambrie’s laughter was muffled against his chest. “You’re amazing. Really, really amazing. I’ll bet you could set some kind of world record for always being up for sex.” Another giggle escaped. “Do you see what I did there?”
She was killing him. He liked her. He hadn’t expected that. Admire. Respect. Crave. But actually like? He bent his head and found the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder with his teeth, scraping lightly. She reacted with a full-body shiver.
“I want to.” Her whisper was very sincere. “I’m not sure I can ever walk again though. I’m pretty sore. Maybe I can take care of you another way?”
He suppressed a groan. Naturally, she would tempt him. He wasn’t going to let her turn this into another marathon sex session. He didn’t want their entire relationship based on sex, and that could happen so easily for both of them. He could see himself letting it because it would be so much easier than putting in the work, learning to understand her needs.