Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Emotionally shaken, but no less physically drawn to Creed, I follow him, and I do so with the sense that I need him—I need him desperately, as I have never needed. I don’t like the idea of it being the lifebond—not me, not us—but right now, it doesn’t seem to matter.
By the time I’m on my knees at the end of the mattress, he’s stripped away what little he’d been wearing, his cock jutting forward, thick with readiness. Inhaling a lust-laden breath, I crawl toward him as surely as he reaches for me. He hits the end of the mattress, and my legs press to his, and we come together in a deep, frenzied kiss, one of his hands palming my backside as he picks me up, caressing along the cheek and intimately sliding along the cleft.
Again, I’m wrapping myself around him, my arms draping his neck, his erection at my hip, when the anticipation of having him inside me is almost too much to bear. He reaches between us, his fingers sliding between my thighs and teasing the sensitive flesh.
“Creed,” I pant out, a desperate plea lapping at his name on my tongue.
He maneuvers us back down onto the mattress, side-by-side, facing each other, and thank you, yes, his cock is pressed to the aching V of my body. And now is not the time for slow lovemaking. I don’t want to make love. I want him to fuck me.
He seems to feel the same thing, scooping me into him and guiding the thick head of his erection inside me. “Oh God,” I whisper even as he sinks deep—so very deep—and shifts inside me, and it feels as if a million nerve endings in my body sing with joy.
His mouth is just above my mouth, his hot breath mingling with mine, and for several seconds, we linger there, our bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. I know this man in an unexplainable way, an unnatural way, And I know he feels this, too.
He lowers his mouth to mine, brushing his lips over my lips in a languid motion that defies the urgency between us. And slowly, so slowly, he draws back before thrusting hard and fast. I gasp with the intensity of my body’s reaction, of the deep need it creates in me—he creates in me. A wild rush of passion follows, a frenzied need between us. My hips sway and pump with his.
He rolls me to my back, his muscular legs spreading mine, demanding I open for him. And I do so willingly, eagerly. Against every vow I’ve made since that day in Groom Lake, I offer all of myself to Creed—all of me. I am incapable of telling him no.
Chapter Six
Addie
He’s back to pumping into me, wildly demanding, and I don’t hold back. I’m practically bucking against him, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more of him. Desperate for far more than the deep thrust of his cock, but for something else, something unnamed that I know reaches far beyond the burn of lust. Something far more primal that is a part of the lifebonding process. I’ve felt this before with him, but never like this—never so intense, never so all-consuming.
He must feel it too, as he tears his lips from mine, his long hair draped around his shoulders and around mine as he stares down at me, his dark eyes wild, hungry, tormented—and yes, he feels it too. A part of me reads that torment as him not wanting me, as him being incapable of denying me.
But there’s no turning back now. No reason to be found for either of us. He thrusts into me—a long, deep, sensual stroke of his cock that has me arching into him, tilting my hips to take more of him. To be closer to him. Riding on the edge of release, I wrap my legs around his legs, moaning as he kisses me, his tongue velvet pleasure. The combination of his tongue and his hips shatter my control, and I tumble over the edge, my sex clenching and spasming around his cock, my body shaking with the intensity of my pleasure. With a guttural groan, Creed drives into me, buries his face in my neck, and trembles with his release.
He collapses into me and me into him, but I’m aware of the way he protects me from his body weight and the way he shelters me. I hate him and I love him in the aftermath of what we have shared, and I don’t know what to do about it. With each second, there is an unraveling of passion into another kind of explosion. It starts slow with a burn in my chest and belly, the hurt of the past blasting into the present.
“Let me up,” I order, pressing on his chest, suddenly claustrophobic. We had sex. That’s all. It changes nothing. I don’t want what could come after—the pain, the heartache—all over again.