THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

love in his touch crawled down to my waist, around my hips, and down my leg still at his hip. He trailed his hand slowly back up, sending a wave of chills down my spine until the tee shirt was pushed up my thigh enough to make me feel on display.

Every inch of his cock pressed against the inside of my thigh, and his lips demanded mine be sore after he was done with me. The chaste feeling of my own used lips had to be my favorite before I realized mine had felt more than his. “Are you still in denial, Evey? I can’t fuck the truth away.”

“If you stop my soul won’t stop screaming.” It was the truth because we couldn’t keep lying after all that. I have enough bad memories to keep Bowen fucking my demons away for years.

Still standing on the stack of books, I felt his hands lift me up by my ass, and I naturally wrapped my legs around his waist.

I didn’t expect him to maneuver us completely when he held me against him until I felt the rung of a ladder pressing into my ass. Reaching up, I wrapped my hands around a rung, holding on while his hands smoothed down to grasp the backs of my thighs. The butterflies he gave me made me feel warm and nervous in ways I thought would surely fade by now.

“I like it when your soul screams. It scares away my demons.” His voice sounded more stable than it did before, but I could still see where the single tear ran down his cheek.

The wetness between my thighs felt sinful, the books lining the shelves felt romantic, and the papers littered the floor so heavily that you couldn’t see it as anything other than our new foundation.

This was us; nothing between us any longer.

My hands rushed to push his shirt up enough for him to pull over his head while my fingers etched over his toned, slender muscles.

“Bowey…” I needed to know that he hadn’t vacated himself. I needed to know I wasn’t the only one reeling from feelings.

“I’m here, Evey, in all its painful glory.” His hands gripped the sides of the ladder, body pushing between my legs and inching down into me until our lips were so close I swore I could taste him.

Pushing down his damp joggers between us, I whispered into the small space between us, “If I forgive you for lying will you forgive yourself for not being able to save me?”

His features, sharp and smooth at the same time, relinquished all lust and in exchange turned hard. If he was considering it, he didn’t want me to know.

Breaking eye contact, he adjusted his gaze downward when I caught the reflection of his eyes welling up. Something I hadn’t seen since we were kids when he took on the vulnerable role in our relationship.

BOWEN

She wanted to forgive me.

Half of me felt exonerated, and half of me felt too similar to Elias.

Her head fell to the side, trying to maintain eye contact when I was determined to look away until the wetness in my eyes dried up.

“Bowey, you couldn’t save me any more than I could have saved you. Maybe we both need to see that instead of putting these standards on each other. You were my savior too,” her voice was a steady whisper, but it didn’t stop me from hurting less.

Savior, it had a ring to it, one I certainly never equated myself to.

I sentenced myself to this kind of slow death, and it wasn’t to come out the other end a hero.

Her hands were shaking in a way that reminded me of raw passion as they reached between us to push down the fabric of my boxer briefs. I could tell she was nervous this might actually fix us the way we had been trying to fill our vacancies.

Her pouty lips already had my abs tight and hands grasping whatever I could of her when she whispered, “May I…?”

The Eve I knew didn’t ever use those kinds of words, anything resembling manners was the opposite of being the tiny terror she used to be.

Leaning into her, I reached over her head, wrapping my hands around the rung to let her crumble under the proximity of me. “Fuck being polite… isn’t that what you used to say, Evey?”

Biting down on her lips, I could tell she wanted to smile because I never forgot anything. Not when it came to our past.

Her feet were still close to the ground when I whispered in her ear, “Turn over.” I wanted to see her from every angle, still commit her to memory even though she was already mine.

Twisting between me and the ladder I was still clamping down on, I felt her pert little ass drag its way across my crotch, trying to start a fire with the friction. My hands immediately started lifting her shirt up past her ass, only pausing to smooth over her poreless skin that felt like home under my fingertips.

It was hard to believe she was a tomboy with a sailor mouth when she was made of fucking holy things but made you want to sin.

Pushing up the shirt, I pulled it over her head and let it drop amongst the proof I had fought for her along with all the love stories I collected in her absence.

Her arms were still reached over her head, holding onto the ladder rung as she shoved her ass into my painfully hard dick, already moaning more than I could take. Slipping my hand in front of her body, I found the warmth between her legs, and she jumped at the coldness of all the rings covering my fingers.

Dropping her head between her shoulders, her