Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
His hand is around my jaw. “I. Won’t. Share. You.”
I clench my teeth together, fire burning beneath my flesh. He has never been this possessive, at least not this obvious about it. The Brothers are all supposed to be into sharing, but right now, it’s looking like the end of a generational curse. “I don’t give a fuck. If you put your dick in someone else, guess what? One’s coming inside me too.”
He tenses, his lips curling upward as he bares his teeth. I know he’s hanging by a thread of patience right now, but I also know he wouldn’t harm a hair on my head. My tongue rests on my upper lip to hide my grin. “You—”
“—I won’t.”
His grip loosens enough for me to open my mouth farther. “Won’t what?” Confusion warps my mind, but I don’t have time to figure anything else out because right now, his eyes are on mine and his mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s concentrating hard on what to say next.
“I won’t fuck, kiss, touch anyone that isn’t you.”
I search his features, bringing my hand to his chest. My finger hovers over the tattoo on his hip, the casket with a cherry carved into the wood. “Please don’t say that.”
He leans down, hands resting on either side of my body. “I don’t fucking say it lightly, but I mean it.”
“Keaton, I—”
He stands straight again, his thumb sliding between the cushion of my lips. “Bite.”
I wrap them around and flick my tongue over the base.
He hisses. “Good. Now spread your legs and play with your pussy, but remember I fucking own it.”
He falls backward as I slide up the bed, squeezing my nipples. Lying down on his pillows, I slip over the black silk and close my eyes, inhaling the smell of his scent. Sexual masculinity. It’s intoxicating. He is fucking intoxicating.
Music starts playing. Not too loud, but enough to hear. And then the lights are off and all that’s illuminated are the LEDs that surround his king size bed and the outline of the floor and TV. I’m locked and caged in his bedroom, the very one I used to sneak into growing up. Keaton has never been involved with any girl. He’d mess around, sure, but none of us have ever seen him with any one person seriously.
Candi doesn’t count.
“What do you want from me, Cartier?” His voice is baritone, but sensual. As if he has smoked one thousand cigarettes and burned the back of his throat. He hasn’t. We all know he hates smoking. “Answer.”
My head shifts to the side, peering up to where he stands beside the bed with the button of his jeans undone. His body is art, but not the kind you stare at to admire. It’s the kind that you sell because you think it’s cursed.
I lick my bottom lip before my teeth sink into it. His eyes follow the movement as his cheeks redden.
“Cartier…” he warns. “You’re testing my patience. Answer me.”
“I want you to do whatever you want to me…” I move my hand down my stomach, my thumb tracing the line that dips below my belly button before it stops right on top of my Kiznitch star that’s inked below it.
His eyes narrow. “You should be punished for tonight.”
My mouth curves slightly. “I know.”
Leaning down, he sinks his fist into the mattress beside my head as he runs the tip of his nose over the bridge of mine. “I should fuck Candi in front of you.” The whisper of his words slaps me across the face. Undiluted jealousy rages like a wild eagle deep in my belly. I’d kill him for sure… but… when the rage disappears, intrigue takes its place. Would the excitement turn me on? Or is it just the probability of me strangling him after he’s done it that will?
There’s no way I could handle that. I’m entirely full of shit. “Do it.”
He rears his head back as if I’ve slapped him across the face before standing up straight. Seconds pass between us, like a silent battle of who is more stubborn than the other. I know he would. There’s no doubt about it at all that Keaton would fuck her right in front of me just to make his point. Why do I like to test him?
He snickers, falling backward while pulling open the drawer in his bedside table and removing a black satin box. He momentarily stares up at me before going back to the box as his finger runs across the edges. “Know what this is?”
The song changes to “Savages” by Kerli. I shake my head slowly, my finger grazing my clit.
He holds my stare, flicking open the lid. “Good answer.” He places the box on his bedside table and removes the belt around his jeans. I wait for him to drop it, but he brings it to my head.