Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“You think I’m going to let you leave?” He pulled me again.
I gasped at the feel of him hitting me right there. He flipped me over so quickly on my chest that I struggled to get up on my hands. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw him pulling down his briefs, eyes on mine. He slapped my ass then. Hard. The whip of his palm stinging me instantly, making me wet instantly. Fuck. Why did I even like that? He slapped me again on the same spot, but before I could even register the sting, he was inside of me with one hard, deep, unforgiving thrust that took all of the air out of my lungs. I cried out, fists clenching the sheets beneath me, my eyes rolling back with each of his deep, hard thrusts. He wrapped my hair around his hand and brought my hands off the mattress as he leaned over, bringing his other hand to my clit as he continued to move inside me.
“Do you really think you’re going to give this pussy to another man after me?” he murmured in my ear, biting it as he circled my clit with his fingers and his cock hit me at the perfect angle, the perfect spot, making me spasm. “That’s right. Come all over my cock, baby. It’s yours, isn’t it? This cock.” He bit my ear again. “Answer me.” The feeling started to rush through me again and I knew he was going to make me come. He slapped my ass, fingers still playing with my clit, cock still fucking me at a slower pace now. He knew exactly what he was doing. My eyes started rolling back on their own. He slapped my ass again. “Tell me. Do you want another woman to have this cock?”
“No. God, no.” I groaned, pushing into him, the mixture of pleasure and the spark of anger pushing me over the edge again. “Fuck. Fuck. Dominic.”
“That’s right, baby.” His fingers left my clit, and he pulled all the way out of me, the movement alone causing my legs to shake.
He flipped me over on my back and arranged my legs before settling back between them. This time, he slowed his thrusts and held my gaze, as if he wanted me to feel every inch of him, as if he hadn’t already infiltrated me enough with his presence. His pace was languid. I tried to look away, tried to regain some kind of footing, but it was no use. The way he was looking at me, as if in complete awe that he had me at all, made my heart pound harder. I was on the edge again, the walls of my pussy closing tightly around his cock. He groaned, leaning in and capturing my lips and kissing me as deeply and as slowly as he was fucking me. When he pulled away, he set his forehead against mine, his rhythm not stopping for a moment, his pelvis hitting my clit every time he thrust in deep. I couldn’t breathe. It was too much.
“You’re not leaving me, Rosie,” he breathed, pulling back only to look at me and drive the point home. “You can’t leave me.”
All of the emotion I’d tried to put away started rushing back when he looked at me like that. My legs started to shake again. I didn’t know whether it was the fact that his dick was made for me or that he knew exactly how to fuck me, but I came with a gasp, holding his eyes. “Don’t say you’re leaving me.” He pressed a soft kiss against my mouth as I spasmed. His words sounded softer now, unsure, maybe even a little sad, as he emptied himself inside of me. He kissed me again and pulled out slowly, walking over to get tissues and bringing them between my legs. He wiped me softly, his eyes back on me, on my body.
“What’s this?” His brows furrowed as he brought his hand to my side, touching me gently, and I knew I’d bruised.
“It’s nothing.” I pushed off the bed and brushed past him, heading to the bathroom.
“It’s not nothing.” He was hot on my heels. “Was I too rough? Did I do that?”
“No. It’s really nothing.” I went into the little toilet room and started closing the door, needing space. I hated that he thought he was responsible for those marks. I hated that I felt the need to keep it from him. He stopped the door before it shut. “Dominic, I need to pee.”
“So, pee.”
“I can’t with you standing here.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
He scowled but turned around and walked away. When I finished, he was in the shower. It was one of those double showers, with two separate rain shower heads and he had both of them switched on, expecting me to join. I sighed heavily and got inside, staying to the side he wasn’t using. He didn’t speak as he finished showering, didn’t say a word as he walked over with the bottle of shampoo. He walked around to my back, and I closed my eyes when I felt his fingers in my hair, working the shampoo into my scalp. We didn’t speak as he washed the rest of my body. He was extra gentle on the bruises and between my legs. When he was done, he switched off the water and led me to the plush white rug outside the shower. He brought a towel to my hair and dried it sloppily before patting it down my body and handing it to me. He wrapped another one around himself, right over the spot where the V-shape started on his abdomen. I was still staring at his chest when he set both hands on my waist, his touch gentle. I wanted nothing more than to grab the towel he’d set next to me and cover up, but I knew this was inescapable. When I dared meet his eyes, I expected him to be mad, but the only thing I found in them was concern.