Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Looking into her eyes, I snicker. “But I wouldn’t want to deprive either of us. I need to feel you wrapped around me.”
“Nix…” she moans, eyes welling with tears. I don’t know if I like the sight or the sound more. “Not like this. Please.”
“Your pussy doesn’t feel that way. You should see how wet it is.” I can’t help but reach down to drag a thumb over her bald lips, picking up her essence and bringing it to my tongue. The taste explodes there, turning my mind into a blazing inferno of need. Nothing will satisfy it but the grip of her muscles around me. She’s right—Colt could be back anytime, so this is dangerous. As much as I would love to take hours making her scream, I need to finish what I started.
That means unbuckling my belt and dropping my jeans to my knees. “Remember this?” I ask, laughing at the way she groans with her chin quivering. “Relax. You’re already dripping wet. Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
When her cheeks flush and her eyes dart away, I know I’m right. Her body loves this, even if her brain tells her she shouldn’t.
She tries to push herself away from me, heels on the bed, when I touch my tip to her core. “That’s right, keep fighting,” I urge with a dark laugh. I barely recognize my own voice. It sounds more like Dad’s than mine, something that should bring all of this to an end. I can’t be like him, yet here I am. Maybe I need to embrace it. “It just makes me want you more.”
“You’re better than this!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I whisper before pushing forward, making her cry out in surprise, in pain, I don’t know which. I only know the sound is music to my ears that makes me drive myself deep and hard, grunting in pleasure once I’m buried to the hilt, and she’s gripping me tight with her hot, tight cunt.
It only gets hotter and tighter when I pull back and go deep again, hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall in a quick rhythm. Her teeth are gritted, eyes closed, but she loves it. “Stop fighting it,” I say breathlessly, taking her legs and spreading them wider, grinding my base against her clit.
Her face is red, tight with strain, but she can’t lie to me. Not to the man who’s balls deep inside her heat.
“Too… hard…” she grunts, but I ignore her. This is the way I need it, the way I’ve dreamed of it. I am not going to miss out on this.
In fact, I’m tired of hearing her talk. Her eyes fly open wide when I pull out, only to go even wider when I flip her over. She’s face down on the pillow, arms still above her head, simply twisted now, and I like this better. Her smooth ass up in the air once I pull back on her hips, her pale skin going pink when my hand strikes hard enough for her to scream into her pillow.
Maybe Colt will see that handprint. I told myself I couldn’t mark her, but that was before I got started. I can’t help myself now.
I can take her deeper this way, faster, holding her by the hips and pulling her back to match my strokes. Her ass jiggles in time with our bodies slapping together. Faster, I feel the tension growing, and no matter how she wants to deny it, I feel her getting tighter around me. Her juices are flowing, running down my sack, she’s moaning, and soon I realize she’s pushing back against me. Fucking me the way I’m fucking her.
The way I knew she would.
“This is what you wanted,” I grunt, watching my dick disappear inside her again and again. There is nothing like this feeling of owning her. “This is how you need it.” She’s lucky I don’t have time to do more than this. She wouldn’t walk right for a week.
“Nix!” she screams into the pillow, clenching around me, squealing, driving me insane. “Oh, my god!”
And when she comes, drawing me deep, I barely have time to pull out and take myself in one hand. The sight of my pearly cum splashing her skin is better than any work of art. By the time I’m finished, she’s dripping with me, sloppy and used. This is what she was made for, whether she knows it or not. Made to be used like this.
She falls to one side, sobbing through her gasps for air. “Oh, god,” she moans, quivering, and even that is satisfying. I did that to her. I made her sound that way. Her body sags, wrists still bound tight, and she wiggles her fingers weakly before moaning again.
“Clean yourself off,” I sneer, releasing the rope, unwinding it and shoving it into my waistband again once I’ve picked my pants up. “And next time, don’t fight so much. We might have more time to enjoy ourselves.”