Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Smack!
She’s mine. They will never touch her again. She will never betray me again. She’s mine.
Smack!
“Ten,” she cries out on the last one louder than the others. Her shoulders heave as she does, her chest rising and falling chaotically.
She winces as I grip her ass with both hands, squeezing again. She may be in pain, but the moment I thrust into her slick cunt, all the way to the hilt in a swift motion, utter rapture takes over her expression.
Buried inside of her, I move her arms up, letting her brace herself with her palms on the floor. “You’re going to need to hold yourself up,” I tell her as I pull out slowly.
She whimpers with the loss, her head hanging to the side.
The moment she looks back and her eyes find mine, I slam inside of her. The sight is a fucking drug. Like heroin to my veins. Her tearstained cheeks, her parted plump lips and her dark eyes beg me to fuck every thought of what’s happened out of her pretty little mind.
I rut into her savagely and without warning, needing her to come on my cock. Her nails dig into the carpet as she’s pushed forward. I’m all too aware that with every thrust, she has both the pain of her spanked ass and the pleasure of me fucking her heightened.
Kissing her wildly, I capture her stifled moans with everything in me, needing her to feel overwhelming pleasure. With her lips on mine, she comes undone beneath me, her body tensing and her pussy clenching around my cock.
I resist every urge to come and ride through her orgasm, fucking her harder and deeper, taking her to the highest high imaginable.
I fuck her ruthlessly until she’s limp beneath me, barely cognizant with my name spilling from her lips as if I’m her fucking savior.
BRAELYNN
The first thing I note when I wake up is that Declan isn’t in bed. The second is that every inch of me is in agony.
My throat is on fire, my muscles are sore and tight, and my ass is in such pain that I wake from rolling over onto my side.
Fuuuuuuuck. Gritting my teeth, I absorb the shock of the sudden pain. With a deep breath it’s gone in an exhale. I slept like death itself. Pure exhaustion that still lays heavy under my eyes left me without a single dream or nightmare.
Yesterday comes back to me all at once. Shivers run down my spine and I cling to the blanket. Everything is okay, I remind myself even though it hurts to swallow, my throat is so hoarse. I remember screaming his name last night as he fucked me like I was his whore. I wish I hadn’t. It already hurt before and now simply swallowing brings about pain.
Add in a headache that’s more than likely from lack of caffeine and waking up is a new kind of hell.
Vaguely I remember the balm Declan rubbed on my backside last night. Retreating to my stomach, I lift myself up enough to check his nightside table. A white jar and a tube of Neosporin sit next to a large black glass clock. It looks just as heavy as it does expensive. Everything in his room does. That clock, though, is something else.
It could either kill you, or make you go broke to own it. The thought brings a touch of humor to a rather uncomfortable morning. I’m quiet for a moment, listening for Declan. I watch the bathroom door, but it’s shut and there’s not a sound in the room in the least. The bed groans as I make my way to the nightstand.
Every muscle in me aches, even muscles I didn’t know I had.
The memories of last night come back to me as I gently rub the cooling balm over my heated skin.
My heart flicks with a painful beat as I remember him whispering in the crook of my neck that he loved me. I swear it happened, didn’t it?
He carried me from the floor to the bed, although I don’t remember it. My gaze drops to my knees which bear evidence of carpet burn. He fucked me into a rag doll last night. The memory of how savagely he took me steals my breath and hardens my nipples. The ache between my thighs outweighs the soreness of any other part of me.
I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or the hell of what’s happened, but I don’t remember it all. It’s in pieces. All I know is that he said it was over, he said he wants me, he said I am his and no one will ever touch me again.
And I promised him obedience and submission. I promised to be his. Something tells me there is fine print to this unwritten contract that I’m not prepared for.