Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
He bared his teeth, but I knew it was because he wanted me so damn badly. It was the same intensity of need and fucked-up desire that I wanted from him.
“Take the rope off me,” he groaned and snapped his teeth.
I jerked my head back and smiled. “And if I did that, what would you do?”
He laughed from deep within his chest and leaned back an inch. “I’d hold that little knife to your throat, make you spread your legs for me, and I’d force my cock all the way into that little cunt of yours.”
I sucked in a sharp breath at his crude words. I was so wet, my pussy ready to get torn up by Roman and his no undoubtedly massive cock.
I let my smile grow until I was grinning. I leaned in closer to him now and prompted, “How about this, Roman?” I could feel him tense beside me after I said his name. “How about I hold the knife to your throat as I climb on top and force your big cock into my little pussy?”
His breath caught, and he snapped his teeth at me again. He was a fucking predator, and I was toying with him.
“Yeah.” I tilted my head to the side, smiling as I held the knife up between us. “I’m gonna be the one to fuck you.”
10
ISLA
“Take me out, Isla,” Roman snarled, and I found myself setting the knife aside and going for the button and zipper of his dark pants. “Stop taking up all our fucking time and get my cock out, little girl. You want me, so fucking take it.”
I slowed my movements and lifted my gaze to Roman. “It’s funny and even kind of cute that you think you’re in control right now.” While staring into his eyes, I popped his button undone.
He strained again, his black T-shirt rising to show a glimpse of an abdomen covered in muscles, his biceps bulging with restrained power and strength.
“How many people have you killed?” I found myself asking suddenly, not realizing that waiting for him to answer was making me feel like a fiend for my next fix. I dragged the pocketknife up his chest, wanting to tear away his T-shirt. He didn’t respond, just stared at me, letting me run the blade over him with the threat that I could cut him.
I placed the pointed tip at his jugular and scanned his face. His dark hair was on the longer side with locks hanging over his forehead. I didn’t know how it happened, but I was on top of him. He looked massive beneath me, his muscles straining, his teeth bared as if he were a trapped animal.
He was so hard under me, not just because he was rock-solid with strength and muscle but because his cock was like an iron rod pressed right between my thighs.
While he watched me, not answering my question, I let my fingers trace the firm lines of his chest beneath his shirt. I felt the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch. It was steady, as if he wasn’t afraid nor anxious about the situation.
“How many lives have you taken?” The question had been hanging between us, and I repeated it in a whisper that felt almost intimate. My voice was steady, unafraid. I wasn’t sure what he’d say, but I knew what I expected him to tell me.
We were both drenched in darkness. He was me, and I was him. I knew that without a doubt.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable flash across his features. But it was gone so fast I truthfully didn’t know if I’d actually seen it or just imagined this “weakness” in him.
“Too many to count,” he said, his voice rough but to the point. It was cutting and sharp, like the blade in my hand.
I felt the shift in the air, the heaviness of something unspoken.
“My first was my favorite.” He lifted his upper body as much as he could, his nostrils flaring, and something violent flashed in his eyes.
Roman’s jaw tightened, and his gaze turned distant like whatever memory he was drowning in took him further under, as if he were looking at ghosts I couldn’t see. “My father deserved every second of torture I inflicted on him before I ended his life.”
His words crackled between us, and I felt the rawness in his tone. I smelled the blood, felt the violence that clung to his confession.
We truly were one and the same.
I knew if I asked him for details, he would have given them to me. I knew he would have gotten off on telling me how he killed his father. This man was aroused by death, and the throbbing of his cock beneath me had reality fading and my own twisted need rising up.