Font Size:  

I trace my fingers along the side of his face, his high cheekbones and the slant of his jaw. “I think you do care.”

“No, I don’t.”

This time I can’t stop my smile as I reply, “I think that big bad Ledger Thorne AKA my Beautiful Thorn that everyone is afraid of, is a teeny-tiny bit of afraid of angsty romance novels.”

His eyes narrow. “Is that so?”

“Yup.” I nod, grinning like a fool. “I think you’re a big bad baby when it comes to even a little bit of drama in love stories.”

His jaw tics for a bit before he murmurs, “And that’s funny, huh?”

I chuckle. “A little bit, yes.”

And then I lean over and kiss his displeased frown. But then I think maybe I should kiss him some more, a lot more, so I place kisses all over his face. From his sharp cheekbones to the tip of his arrogant nose. From one side of his sculpted jawline to the other before coming back and pecking him on his downturned mouth.

He lets me do it for a bit, probably for half a minute or so, before he comes for me.

Before his arms shoot out and he grabs the back of my neck with one and my hair that was making a curtain around us with the other. Fisting my strands and pulling me back toward his lips, he gives me a proper kiss.

A kiss the way that he likes it.

Wet and thorough.

That I like as well.

Not for long though.

Because pretty soon he breaks away and then he’s tackling me to the floor. He’s sitting up but bringing me down on the rug, maneuvering my body under him, rolling it on the cozy rug and going for the attack.

By that I mean not the sexy kind but the other kind.

The ticklish kind.

And I can’t stop squealing and writhing and laughing and screaming for him.

I can’t stop pushing him away and going breathless when it doesn’t work. I even warn him that I’m going to pee if he doesn’t stop torturing me, but of course he’s not afraid. Just when I think though that I’m either going to pass out or really going to pee, he stops and stares down at me, panting and all flushed.

I’m flushed too.

Probably more than him.

I’m definitely panting more than him for sure.

“Y-you’re…” I swallow, tightening my fists on his shoulders. “You’re a jerk.”

His own hands, which have somehow ended up framing my face with his fingers buried in my hair, tighten. “Better than being an asshole who doesn’t make you laugh.”

I don’t know how it’s possible but my rapidly beating heart squeezes. “That’s —”

“You’re beautiful, you know that,” he rasps, his eyes glittering, swimming with things.

“I —”

“The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You —”

“Sometimes I don’t know whether to wrap you up in the softest silk and feed you cotton candy while you sit in my lap.”

“I think you need to stop talking.”

“Or burn all of your clothes so I can keep you naked 24/7.”

“Stop talking, Ledger.”

“And choke you with my cock when the mood strikes.”

I blink my eyes. “Okay, I’m gonna cry now.”

He rubs his thumbs over my cheeks. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” I hike my open thighs up his body and wrap them around his hips. “You can’t be all poetic and filthy and expect me to keep my cool.”

His lips twitch. “Well if you cry, I’m here to wipe your tears.”

I sniff. “With your dick?”

“If I want to.”

“I don’t get a choice?”

He hikes my thighs even higher then. “When have you ever gotten a choice?”

My eyes almost glaze over. “Oh, good point.”

And he does.

Wipe my tears with his dick.

Well, first he makes me shed them while I’m on my knees, struggling to fit his big cock in my mouth, but yeah, he totally gives me what I want.

Which is how all our breakfasts and romance storytellings go.

Sometimes I don’t want it to end, my time here.

I don’t want to go back to reality. Back to Bardstown, where everything is bleak and hopeless. That’s why I also keep my texts and phone calls with my friends short and sweet. I’ve met them a couple of times but not as frequently as I used to before. They got a little worried in the beginning but I assured them that everything was fine so they’ve backed off now. Which is great.

But I guess you don’t always get what you want, do you?

Because reality comes knocking when I get my period.

I’ve been watching the calendar as the days pass and for a little while it looked like I got my wish. My period was late and given that I’ve always been fairly regular, I couldn’t help but hope. But all my hopes are dashed when one morning, after days of being late, I wake up with telltale signs of the time of the month. And since my period is always bad, I have bloody thighs and excruciating pain in my belly.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like