Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
She pushes against me as I nudge my dick into her heat and growl the words I desperately need to say while breathing into her neck, “Don’t you ever fucking think about leaving me again.” Before she can respond, before she can even truly register my words, I slam into her to the hilt and rut violently into her warmth. I’m desperate for her pleasure. I need her to come on my dick just as much as I need to come inside of her. I pound into her. I’m fueled by my need to claim her.
I’m struck by a thought that makes me eager to come. I growl with triumph as I ruthlessly fuck my mate in the dirt. My hands grip her ass and tilt her up so I hit her clit with every downward stroke. My fingers dig into her hips as her back arches off the ground.
I pound into her, slamming to the hilt each time. I grab her throat and squeeze, not enough to bruise her or to cut off oxygen, but enough to show her my strength and pin her there. With one hand on her hip and the other on her throat, I watch as her body jolts with each hard, merciless thrust. Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous like this. A flush rising up her chest, her sultry eyes staring into mine. It doesn’t take long for her pussy to clamp down on my dick, while her head falls back and she screams out in pleasure. The image of her overwhelmed with the pleasure I gave her is all I need. I come instantly.
“I love you, Owen.” She turns her head to the side, trying to hide herself as she starts to cry. It shreds me. She moves away from me the moment she can, leaving me wanting. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”
The moment is over before its begun. Her sorrow is a knife to my heart. I know she loves me; she doesn’t need to say it.
“I love you, Emma.” I kiss her hair and hold her to my chest, hoping she knows just how much she means to me. Thank God she lets me hold her.
I’ve never lived without my brother; I can’t imagine taking his mate away from him. Making him leave or leaving with his mate, either option would be akin to killing him myself. But how could I let my mate leave me? If he doesn’t win her over, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.
Emma
I’m so torn and confused. My heart’s twisted in my chest. Aching with the need to stay with Owen. I was prepared to leave them behind and go back to my old life. I have enough information to make a decent manuscript. There’s so much more to learn, but I can’t risk staying any longer. I can’t risk them claiming me. The heat is hard enough. I can barely think straight with it.
I do know one thing though; I’m falling hard for Owen. I know he already has my heart. But I can’t come between him and his brother. I don’t see myself with Luke. Ever. I don’t care that I’m his mate. I just can’t be with someone who thinks so little of me. Like I’m just expected to spread my legs for him. I’ll never beg someone to love me.
Owen’s already left. He said it will only be a day or two, but this fucking heat is killing me. I’m primed for another orgasm, already missing his touch. Every second seems to raise the threshold of pleasure. I close my eyes and grip the sheets harder, trying to repress the aching need between my legs. I tried satisfying myself before, which only made me more desperate for their touch. The sound of the door makes me open my eyes.
Luke.
I stare at the rugged man in front of me and the very sight of him makes my heart twist in agony. He looks the same, dark and intense, but his eyes are mournful. The dominance and power that were so much a part of his image no longer exist. I fist the sheets tighter, resisting the urge to touch him. A base need deep inside me pleads with me to comfort him. I agreed to stay here. But I have no intention of giving any more of myself to him.
“You’re in pain.” I keep my eyes closed, ignoring how fucking sexy his voice is. How the deep rumble of it soothes the anger in me.
“I’m fine.” I say it with as flat of a voice as I’m able, but it manages to come out needy.
“You aren’t.” I feel the bed dip and hear the sound of it softly creak a few feet away. “I’m sorry.”
I’m sure he is. He’s sorry I didn’t beg him. I keep my snide remark to myself.