Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
I was right. It wasn’t a silly dream.
It wasn’t some confused crush, a figure standing across the grave, the rain slicing down. It wasn’t imagined looks and please-let-it-be gestures.
It’s this. It’s real.
“Let’s go somewhere private,” I whisper, passion rising as I think about what’s next.
If I can do it.
He nods seriously, taking my hand and leading me toward the house.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Damien
The revelation has shattered something in us and made it impossible to resist. I’m not sure we ever were, but now I’m rock-fucking-hard, my purpose as much as my body, as my throbbing length pushes hungrily at my zipper.
We rush upstairs, Liliana giggling softly, meeting my eye.
I can see the nerves there, flitting across her eyes.
But her cheeks are red, all excited, a flush moving down to her neck. Her clothes are the simple safe-house ones, but it doesn’t matter.
Her shape….
It makes me wild.
“Let’s go.”
We move fast.
My hand glides down her back as we reach the hallway and slides down over her ass. She makes a soft moaning noise, shifting against me. It’s like she can’t help it.
And she can’t. She said it. She feels the same.
I want to howl as I guide her into the bedroom. It’s mine, the master.
Closing the door behind us, I say, “This is where you belong. My Bratva queen.”
She gasps as I turn back to her, her hands at her neck.
It’s like she’s too hot.
She’s burning up, her young body as desperate as mine to be fused together. I bet her pink slit is already soaked for me, like last time, her panties speckled with her excitement.
“I mean it,” I say passionately, striding across the room.
She places her hands on my chest, bunched up. I grab them and lean over, kissing her fully on the lips. She’s so receptive, my Liliana, melting into the kiss as she shifts against me, her breasts grazing my torso.
Snarling through the kiss, I push down on her sweet round ass, grinding our bodies together so I can feel her breasts pressed against my chest.
“You need this so bad,” I snarl. “So do I. We both do. It’s like I can feel your….”
“Say it,” she whimpers as I slide my hand into her hair and softly grip her chocolatey locks.
“It’s like I can feel your fucking core,” I growl, letting out the truth. That’s it. There’s no denying it. “I can feel how badly your body needs this—our future. I can’t believe it. You horny, perfect thing. You feel the same. You know who you were made for, who that innocent body belongs to, don’t you?”
She nods as I slip my hand down over her curvaceous midriff, slipping down under the sweatpants.
My cock feels like it’s going to erupt.
All the pressure is building right at the end, every inch of my massive stiff, but I won’t let go until I see her creaming down my shaft.
Her pussy feels like heaven as I begin to rub her, guiding her across the room toward the bed. My hand is never still. She’s soaked, drenched, just like I knew she’d be.
Just like she should be. As my woman, ready to respond to her man, ready to fulfill my primal need.
She gasps in the sexiest way when I nudge her back onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Getting you naked,” I snarl. “Help if you want. Get those perfect big tits out. Or I’ll tear that hoodie to shreds.”
“Damien,” she whispers, her hands busy at her clothes. “You mean it, don’t you?”
I lean down, taking her pants in my hands and pulling them down, her panties all bunched up. She’s so responsive, such a whimpering horny thing, shivering as I peel them lower and lower.
Pulling them over her knees, I leave her socks on, staring at her legs.
They’re so shapely, thick, and juicy. I lean down, take her calf in my mouth and bite down softly.
“Damien,” she whimpers.
At the same time, I reach across, sliding my middle finger around her pussy entrance.
My finger soon gets slippery with her perfect leaking slit, her juices coating me.
I move my mouth up, biting different parts of her legs softly.
To taste her, to claim her.
She tenses up when I slip my middle finger into her, finally letting her thigh go. I lean forward, plucking at her pussy, staring down at the way she wriggles around.
“It’s so…ah, Damien…can I....”
“Can you?” I snarl, knowing what my Bratva queen means.
She wants to let go.
“You fucking better.”
“Like that,” she whispers. “If you like…oh….”
I keep going at the same angle, snarling as I watch her body moving in rhythm with my hand. It’s like I’m playing her, my instrument, lover, woman, mother to my future children, muse, support, partner, prize, prey, and everything.
“Who do you belong to?” I growl, slowing down my hand as I lean further down, closer, until I can feel her breath on my cheek with my face turned away.