Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I wasn’t even thinking about what he’d told me on the way over here. That his wolf wants to bite me to embed his scent forever in me. But the way he’s talking, I’m getting the possessive vibe all over the place.
And I have to say… I don’t hate it.
I mean, it’s the last thing I’d have expected from a player like Lance. The whole reason I rejected him was because I figured he was a fly-by-night kind of guy. But now everything’s changed. He says he’s in it for life. He’s calling my pussy his.
It hits the buttons for me. Buttons I didn’t even know I had. I wanted safe, stable, and secure in a man.
I’m still not sure he’s that, but he certainly is all in with me. I can’t really demand more than that. He can’t change who or what he is, what he does for a living, but he’s willing to give me one hundred percent.
And he’s five hundred times more exciting than my fantasy accountant.
And the sex.
Dear Lord.
He rubs the head of his cock over my entrance, making me arch and moan for more, even though I just came.
“Yes,” I encourage.
“Say my name again.” His voice is low and growly. He’s withholding his cock, teasing me now.
“Lance,” I answer immediately.
“Only Lance,” he corrects.
“Only Lance,” I agree.
His smile is feral. He shoves in with a practiced snap of his hips, and the sensation of being filled by him makes my eyes roll back in my head.
“Oh…” I moan in pleasure as he eases back, then punches in again.
“Uh-huh. You want it deep?”
“Yes,” I agree. Not that I’d complain if he gave it any other way. I mean, the guy pretty much has a magic dick. Everything he does with it makes me scream.
I watch him in the moonlit room, his six-pack abs flexing as he undulates his hips, his pecs standing out in stark relief.
He braces my shoulder with one hand, tracing his thumb lightly across my throat—a gentle movement that’s totally in contrast to his deep, firm thrusts. There’s a meditative quality to his movements, almost like tantra—not that I know that much about it. But this is how I imagine tantric sex would be.
Maybe he’s concentrating to keep himself from marking me. The thought should sober me, but it doesn’t. It’s hard to be afraid of anything when I’m with Lance. I meant what I told him before sex—he does balance me out. He eases my anxiety. Makes me feel like anything is possible. Like my world isn’t quite so small as I try to make it. That I can let go of control, and he’ll make sure nothing terrible happens.
I surrender to the delicious sweetness of him moving inside me and roll my hips to match his thrusts, receiving him.
He cups my breast, brushing his thumb over my tightened nipple, pinching and squeezing it.
The relaxation of my first orgasm floats away, replaced by the winding coil of need. I start to whimper and moan. I grip Lance’s arms, my nails sinking into his skin.
He lets loose that wicked smile again. “You want more, Charlie?”
“Yes,” I beg.
He picks up his pace, shortening his thrusts to make them quick and hard. The sound of flesh slapping flesh fills the room.
“Lance…”
“Uh-huh. Say my name, Charlie. Who makes you scream?”
“You do. Oh God, please, Lance.”
His eyes glow in the darkness and he stares down at me steadily, keeping up the fast pace, but not losing control himself. He seems to be waiting for me. It’s all for me.
“Are you going to—” I pant.
His smile widens. “It’s a given with you, angel. I’m just trying to hold back.”
“Don’t,” I murmur.
“Fuck.” Lance seems to lose control, then, slamming in with rough, jerky strokes until he thrusts deep, and stays.
I come the moment he does, my pussy milking his cum. Even though we’ve already conceived a child, I imagine this to be the moment we make the baby, picturing the perfection of our coupling—how my body receives his essence, welcomes it. Pulls it deeper inside me to fertilize my egg.
It’s a beautiful act, creation.
What we made together is beautiful, whether we intended it at the time or not.
True to his word, Lance lowers himself onto me, wraps me in his arms, and rolls us to the side so I’m cradled against him.
The words I love you swim into my head. It’s too soon to say them, but they’re there, nonetheless. What I feel in this moment for Lance is definitely love.
I kiss his throat, his chest. He makes an almost wounded sound, and strokes my hair.
I pull back. “Are you okay? Was it hard not to mark me?”
His smile is slightly pained. “It’s hard.” His cock stirs against my belly, and he winks. “I’m always hard for you, though.”
“Ha ha.” I touch his face. “But really—does it hurt?”