Connected Read Online A.E. Murphy (Broken #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, College, Dark, Drama, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: Broken Series by A.E. Murphy
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
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Slowly he glides back in. “Nathan,” I whimper, when he manages to push his way in a few inches. It aches, oh how it aches in the best way. “More.”

My legs tremble as he pulls out again, leaving only the head inside. If I thought the burning was bad before, I was wrong. This is overwhelming. His pelvis finally joins mine, my smooth skin against his trimmed, dark hair. Honestly I can’t believe I’ve managed to fit him to the hilt; it feels glorious, especially when he starts to grind against me, his pubic bone rubbing against my swollen clit.

Whatever fears he seemed to have only moments ago have definitely gone. His hand leaves mine and pulls my thigh further up his hip, unhooking it from around his leg. This lets him in even deeper. I feel him hit the wall at the back of my core and hear him grunt at the obstruction, but not in annoyance or pain.

Almost chocolate brown eyes come to mine, nothing but lust and wonder in their depths.

I almost feel like I’m taking his virginity and I guess, in a way, I am. There’s something really satisfying about that, knowing that out of everyone, it’s me he’s chosen to share this with.

“You feel so good,” he tells me and slowly begins pumping in and out. I smile for a moment, but it’s interrupted by a loud cry escaping me. The loud cry is because he pulls out sharply and slams inside. For some reason this sets off a chain reaction in my body that starts in my womb and works its way down my legs, clenching every muscle within its grasp. Yes I was tingly, but this… this orgasm had no warning. I wrap my arms around his neck as he gets more enthusiastic with each plunge, most likely due to my reaction.

The lingering vibration that my orgasm left behind doesn’t subside, it only goes on for what seems an age before it builds again and explodes outwards. Down below I clench and release, over and over again. His breath becomes harder and faster, as do his thrusts.

Our foreheads touch once more, our eyes squeezed shut. I want to look at him but I just can’t; my body is no longer my own. I’m floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss, the feeling constant.

It’s not long before I feel his body tense and I know he’s going to come. This was exactly the time he pulled away the last time we had intercourse. This time it can’t be classed as intercourse; this passion, this feeling that we’re creating together doesn’t have a title. It’s too good to be so clinically named.

He starts to lift and I know with one hundred percent certainty he’s going to pull out and deny himself the orgasm his body so clearly wants and needs. I’m not a psychiatrist and I don’t know how to deal with abuse victims, but in this case I’m choosing to not let him run. Maybe it’s the wrong choice but right now, in my heart and mind, it feels like the right choice.

“Gwen.” His tone is panicked. He stills completely. “Let go.” I force my legs around him tighter and use my heels to push him back in. “Gwen!” He shoves up, his torso leaving mine to catch the chill in the air. “Let go now!”

He’s going to pull out. Should I let him? I don’t know what to do.

No. I’m not letting go. Placing my hands on his neck as he goes to break free, I begin grinding my hips up towards him.

He doesn’t say stop; he’s too close to the edge. Instead, his arms buckle but he catches himself before he drops on me and his torso jerks as his length swells even larger and begins to pulse inside of me. His hips begin hammering into mine. A loud, guttural cry leaves him as he presses his face into the pillow by my head.

It’s brutal, his size, his strength, the way his hips piston up and down, forcing him in and out of me quite a few times. As his orgasm reaches its peak, he slams into me three times, still moaning loudly, and it’s his moans that bring me over with the force of his delivery.

We stop at the same time. I can feel and hear our heartbeats intermingling. It’s a strange sound, but a soothing one.

When my body finally becomes my own, I roll Nathan off me. He stares up at the ceiling, his face a blank mask. I don’t talk; he clearly needs a moment. Crossing my leg over his, I pull his arm out and rest my body into the side of him, my nose against his neck.

He doesn’t hold me, not like he did the last few times. He just lies here beneath me, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling.



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