Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Look at you, Fawn, dripping for me. How long have you thought about having me fuck you like the pretty slut you are?”
I should be livid at his words. Who the fuck is he to call me a slut? Yet that degrading word out of Ezra Walker’s mouth makes me feel alive … and horny. I like it. There’s a power in being called words that women like me would never be called. I’m precious, sweet—a woman who knows her place and will make a man a wonderful wife someday. Yet at this moment, as Ezra calls me a slut, I have power. The type of control I never dreamed I’d possess.
Ezra keeps the pad of his thumb on my clit while inserting two fingers into me. He pushes and drags them against my inner walls, a little tease to show me the endless possibilities. “You smell good, Briar.”
I glance down and watch as he pulls a pair of pink panties from his pocket. My pink panties.
He places the fabric on his face. His eyes shut, and he inhales. “I’ve always loved your scent. But with your fresh cunt so close, I realize I was only getting a wish version with your panties.”
Ezra has been stealing my panties? “You barely acknowledge me, but you steal my underwear?”
“I might not find you interesting, but my dick gets hard for you.”
I hate him yet love him; I never want to see him again, but I also want to bury myself in his skin so we’ll never be apart. Everything about Ezra Walker ruins me and rejuvenates me. “Go fuck yourself.”
Ezra shoves the panties back into his pocket and smirks. The hand broadcasting my panties a moment ago now glides up my leg in a promise wrapped in passion and sin. “As enjoyable as that can be, I’d rather be fucking you.”
The slow seduction of his fingers speeds up. I’m not sure I can hold on to the branch as he uses his hand to hit every vulnerable nerve ending in my body. He’s obviously had a ton of practice and knows how a woman’s body works. My head falls back as I lose myself in the moment.
“I always knew I’d be the one to break you in.”
The little fucker. “What makes you believe you’re the first to do shit?”
“I’m all your firsts, Briar. That kiss back there on the forest floor. That was your first, too.”
I freeze. “Never pegged you as someone delusional.”
“Fawn, you can lie to yourself. You can tell others all your fabrications, but we both know there’s no one other than me for you.”
I scream into oblivion as he adds a third finger. My hands shift on the branch, but I hold on by sheer willpower.
“You may hate it, but this sweet cunt will always belong to me.”
The pain is pleasurable and excruciating. I don’t know how porn stars handle those large dicks, let alone multiple at once. The metallic taste of blood floods my mouth. I’ve bitten down on my bottom lip to avoid letting him know that everything he’s said is the truth. I don’t want him to know that there’s been no one other than him in my entire life.
“It’s okay, Fawn. You were a first for me too. The first time I got a boner was from you. It disgusted me.”
I want to run, hide, and cry. The pain of his words is like shards of glass scraping across the thousand pieces of my broken heart. Throughout my life, I’ve had a lot of painful vitriol lodged at me, but Ezra Walker telling me I’m disgusting is what breaks me.
My body finally reacts, no longer under the hypnotic trance induced by Ezra’s touch. The impact of his words on my most vital organs forces my feet back, and I kick him directly in the face. Ezra stumbles back, his hand shielding his nose.
“I hope I broke your precious nose,” I yell as I jump from the tree and run.
Relief washes over me—he didn’t yank down my underwear. My feet kick up the dirt as I run deeper into the forest.
“Fawn, you better hope you’re faster than me.”
His footsteps edge closer, and I scan the trees, trying to distinguish the best one to climb. I’ve always been the better climber of the two of us. Even as kids, Ezra could never get to me if I climbed high. It drove my mother crazy when I came home with ripped dresses. She told me that no man would be interested in a whore. I was seven years old, and she talked to me about men and my label to them.
A fresh surge of anger takes over, and I see red. “I don’t need to be faster than you, Ezra. All I have to be is smarter.”
I spot an elm tree with thick, large branches. Perfect. I sprint toward it, hearing a loud thud before a vise clamps around my right ankle.