Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
As soon as we went into the living room, my gaze was drawn to the window. “Oh! It started to snow!” I rushed over, practically pressing my face against the glass like a child. “I love the snow. It’s like…I don’t know how to word it. It’s the beginning of something, a transformation…like being reborn.”
I felt the warmth of Crow’s body as he stood behind me. He danced his fingers over the hickeys and bite marks on my neck, and growled.
I laughed. “Here I am, trying to be all deep, and you just want to beat your chest over the marks you put on me.”
“I like them,” he said, gifting me with his first words of the day.
I cocked my head so he could see them better. “I like them too.”
I pushed back against him, but Crow didn’t take the bait. “Breakfast.”
“I mean, I’d rather be your breakfast.”
He gave a slight chuckle, like he’d done last night, but this time didn’t seem as shocked by it. The deep, throaty sound was one of my favorite things I’d ever heard. I longed for it to become something Crow did every day.
I took my pills, and he made breakfast. He stood at the counter while I sat, the two of us eating together.
“We need another stool,” I told him. “And a chair. I’d offer to stand, but I know you won’t let me.” It made me feel cherished, taken care of and precious to him, though I figured that was just the way Crow was. He ignored that, the brat, and once we were done eating, I forced him to sit down while I cleaned up the mess. “I can’t let you do everything for me…but I’ll definitely let you do a lot. I’ve never been spoiled before. Do you like doing it?”
His forehead wrinkled in that way it did when he thought something was strange or something I asked was strange. It was amazing how quickly I was learning Crow’s quirks.
“I want to take care of you. I don’t know why.”
I chuckled. “Way to make a guy feel special.” When the lines in his forehead deepened, I waved off his concern. “I know what you meant. I was joking. I can take care of myself, though. I’ve been doing it most of my life.”
“Yes, but now you’re mine,” he said simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
My mouth dropped open for a lot of reasons. We hardly knew each other. I knew he didn’t mean he loved me, but still, he was claiming me. What did being his mean? I shouldn’t want to belong to someone, but I sure as shit had never wanted anything more than I wanted to be Crow’s.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” I shook my head.
Afterward we went to the greenhouse and checked on the plants, and then I helped Crow carry firewood into the house, and he taught me how to start a fire. It was…more special than it should be. It reminded me of my mom and how she’d always loved fireplaces.
He also showed me his shop, which had a locked room in the back that had me curious.
After dinner I crawled between his legs and sucked him off again, then sat there with his cock in my mouth while he read to me. Reading seemed to be different for him than speaking. He could do it a little easier and longer, maybe because the words didn’t come from inside him in the same way.
We slept together, and the next day, did much of the same. Day after day after day, we fell into a routine, showering or bathing together in the mornings, breakfast and cleaning, then outdoor chores. He had another old truck in the garage—one that didn’t run but that he was rebuilding. I swear there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.
Some nights he fucked me, some he didn’t, but it was still always from behind. While the sex was good, I wanted to see him when he took me, wanted to look him in the eyes and see Crow lose himself in my body.
There were also times when he left me alone to go spend time in his locked room in the shop. What was in there that he couldn’t share with me?
Melody texted me a photo of my favorite latte from the coffeehouse, and I smiled. I’d talked to her about checking up on my apartment—Crow was helping me pay my bills—and she’d agreed.
“God, what I wouldn’t give for a mocha latte with an extra shot.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“What? No! God no.” I stared at Crow with what I hoped was a look of horror.
“We can try to make one here.”
I could tell he was about to go and do just that, so I put my hand on his. “For someone who’s been alone for over ten years, you sure do know how to use your heart better than anyone I’ve ever known.” Hell, maybe that’s why he could. Crow would always look at the world differently from other people. He would never be seen as “normal” by most. The man growled, for Christ’s sake, but I thought humanity would be a whole lot better if more people were like Crow.