Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 118333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Instead, I pulled him closer. I felt his muscled body next to mine. Felt how hard he was under his jeans. “I fucking hate that I want these lips,” he growled in between kisses, never once moving his mouth away, his lips dragging across mine as he spoke. He kissed me again. “I hate that I want this body.” Tanner pushed his tongue into my mouth. My tongue battled against his as his thigh slid between my legs. I clawed at the bare skin of his back. I needed to be closer. I wanted to crawl into him. I wanted to get inside him until I possessed his very soul. “I hate that I want these tits.” His hand dropped from my neck to my breasts. My eyes rolled as fire traced through my body. “And I want this pussy.” Tanner’s hand moved between my thighs, and I cried out.
His fingers weren’t soft or gentle. Finding the edge of my panties, he ripped them from my body and tossed them to the floor. I had barely a moment’s reprieve before his fingers were rubbing against my clit. A surge of heat swept through my limbs until I felt like I was being burned alive. I sank my fingers into Tanner’s skin as his body pinned me against the wall. My eyes closed as his fingers worked me faster and faster. He thrust them up inside me, and a long moan slipped from my mouth. Tanner’s chest on mine kept me upright when my legs lost strength. But his fingers didn’t stop plunging into me. They were relentless, he was relentless. I bit my lip as I felt my orgasm build at the base of my spine. I flickered my eyes open to see Tanner’s ice-blue eyes watching me, an expression on his face I’d never seen before—hunger.
Insatiability.
Pure naked want.
I swallowed, just as his fingers pressed a spot inside me that had me breaking apart. Tanner growled low as I screamed, coming in waves, his fingers draining every ounce of pleasure from me. I was breathless as I came down from the high he’d sent me to. And I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take that he was still inside me, still pushing me and pushing me more than I could take.
“Tanner . . . I can’t . . . I can’t take anymore,” I said. I reached down and pushed his hand away. Tanner twisted his arm and in a second had my wrist in his hand. I tried to pull it away, the anger that I had momentarily lost igniting in my chest. “Let go,” I warned. My mouth tightened, then dropped open as Tanner pushed my hand between my legs. I whimpered as my hand touched my sensitive skin. My heart beat wildly. I didn’t know what he was doing. But that look in his eyes, pupils blown and focused all on me, made me want to keep going. Made me want to completely ruin the White Prince of Texas for anyone else.
Tanner guided my fingers inside me, I gasped at the action, at the way he was controlling me, making me touch myself. I moaned at the feel of my submission, of letting him overpower me. Then, with his chest still keeping me prisoner against the wall, he brought my fingers to his lips. My breathing stopped as he sucked each finger into his mouth—slowly, torturously, painstakingly—his fierce gaze never breaking from mine. My heart began beating too fast, a rapid rhythm it had never beat before. Tanner groaned, the husky sound echoing through my bones.
“Get off me,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I loathed the way he was watching me. I detested how he was making me feel—how my traitorous body responded to his touch. Then Tanner pressed against me, and I felt him. Felt how hard he was. I started shaking. My hands, my legs, my entire body. “I said get off me, Nazi.”
Tanner smiled. The first smile I had ever seen him give. If I had been breathing, the smile on his face would have robbed me of all air. But when he licked his lips, licked off the taste of me, I broke. Yanking back my hand, I struck Tanner across the face, slicing my palm across his stubbled cheek.
The sound of the slap ricocheted around the small room like thunder. Tanner’s head snapped to the side, his face covered in blood and stubble and fresh wounds. Slowly, so very slowly, he turned his head in my direction. His ice-blue eyes locked on mine. They were deathly dark and filled with something I couldn’t decipher—no, I could: it was hunger. A hunger so great it bordered on starvation. But hunger for what I didn’t know. Death, pain . . . or me. Every one of his muscles was pulled tight and bulged with veins.