Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Again. But you’ll cream quicker this time. I need to see that fucking ass. Turn over. Now. Don’t make me ask you twice.”
I gasp and turn over, my whole body shaking under the animal weight of him. He leans back to let me turn, and then latches onto my hips and just shoves his cock inside of me, pushes it in past his own seed and my juices.
He drives into me this time as if he’s forgotten how recently I was a virgin.
I cry out in pleasure as it twists through me, but all I can do is buck against him, letting my ass take the brunt impact of his abs against me.
“Cream,” he says, voice cold and commanding. “Cream on this dick. I want it to be fucking covered. Now, Dakota.”
His hand comes down in a light spank, and then he growls as if he likes it and he does it harder. I cry out and shift against him, but of course, he only likes that, and his hand whacks against my flesh again, stinging it red.
I let out a shivering gasp as my pussy is flourishing and tingling again, as though each spank is fuel for another eruption.
“My own personal fucking nymphomaniac,” he snarls. He brings his hand down in another hot euphoric kiss on my ass cheek. “You like it, don’t you? God, you’re a nympho just for me. Fucking say it.”
“I’m a sexy horny slut for you,” I moan, my womb guiding my words, my wetness, and his heat, and the thunderous way my skin tingles all over telling me that I don’t sound silly.
I sound like his woman.
“I’m a sex-hungry minx, Damian, but only for you, just for you.”
“You’re the mother of my children,” he roars, grabbing the slap-tinged flesh and gazing down as if his hot cock slamming into my tight hole is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.
“Cream,” he gasps.
“Ah,” I cry, burying my face in the sheets and squeezing him tight.
He roars and lets his second load go at the same time, leaning over so that his bare chest is against my back. He cradles me as I buck and whimper against him, making lioness noises as my lion drapes his stony weight over me. He buries his hand in my breasts and twists with the motion of my hips, finally pulling out of me and rolling aside.
I immediately crawl into his arms, the post-sex haze settling over me.
Old fears return with the filter of the lust removed, as though what we just did was a dream. My thoughts were made all shimmery with the pulsing heat.
“Did I …”
“Popstar,” Damian laughs, leaning down and kissing my forehead softly. “You were amazing. I’m so happy I found you. When I saw you, I knew I had to put a baby in you. But Jesus Christ, I didn’t know you were going to be kind and sexy and talented and a little freak in the bedroom as well. You’re the whole package. And it’s all for me. Always. Say it.”
“It’s all for you,” I moan.
“I’ll have to make you say that often,” he snarls. “Because I have to remind you. I’d kill any man who tried to hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, resting my cheek against the hard beating of his heart.
“Good,” he says quietly, a growl in his voice. “Because I want that farm in Cali. I want our baby—the one that’s growing inside you right now. I want Sparky to run around in the sun and I want you sitting on the porch, Popstar, singing for the whole family. I want a life.”
“Me too,” I say, tears squeezing between my eyelids.
A movie plays at hyper-speed in my mind, my family’s murders – bloody gunshots – and then the loneliness, the way the other kids always ignored me as if I was a ghost. I see the lonely gullible girl I was.
And then I see the life he’s describing.
I see the woman I could become.
Chapter Twenty-One
Damian
I sit in a world of hazy hard-to-grasp light, drifting along with birds chirping, Sparky cradled in my lap, his body warm and contentment radiating out of him. I listen closely and hear that the chirping is her voice, my woman, and when I look down I see that Sparky and I are floating on a raft on a river of glistening blue. Without having to ask, I know we’re going home, to her, to be with the mother of my children, to the most beautiful—
I jolt upright at the sound of her scream, my hand snatching to the bedside table and grabbing my gun on instinct.
I roll out of bed and look around the room, assessing it for threats, alert to any sign of what I have to kill, and when, and in what order.