Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Gunner steps back from me, his pants that are still sitting on his hips fall to the floor and his cock springs free. My eyes go large. Fuck! I instantly want to close my legs. I’ve been with only a few men in my life, and he’s by far the biggest.
“I’m going to play nice, okay?”
I nod once.
What the fuck does that mean?
Was that him being nice? Because I liked it.
“Now, roll over so I can fuck you.”
I do as I’m told. Managing to get up on my knees, I push myself back where I know he needs me.
“Good bunny.” I hear the rip of a wrapper then I feel him at my entrance. My very fucking wet entrance. I can feel myself starting to pulsate just having him near me.
He presses but doesn’t go far, teasing me again but does not move. Circling my entrance, his hand comes between my legs and touches my very sensitive clit.
“I’m going to get addicted to you, bunny. You should be afraid. Very afraid.” He breathes the words on my ear.
I turn so I can touch his lips with my own. The need I have for him is overwhelming right now. “I want you, too.” Then I bite his lip and taste myself on him.
Gunner kisses me back, and as our tongues collide, he pushes into me. It’s slow, agonizingly slow, and my mouth opens even wider than before. He takes full advantage, stealing my kiss and making it his as he pushes in as far as he can.
Breaking free from our kiss, he fucks me.
Hard.
Fast.
Good.
The best I’ve ever had.
His hands are constantly in my hair, pulling me to him as if I’m his and he owns me. Slapping my ass as if I’m his possession. Gripping my hips as if he has rights to me.
“Tell me now, bunny. Tell me.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
Then he leans down right next to my ear while his cock is still inside of me. “You can thank me now,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Thank you.” Little does he know I mean it.
He is, by far, the best fuck I’ve ever had.
I may become addicted to him—just as he said he would become addicted to me. Or perhaps I’ve just fucked the devil and damned myself.
Who cares?
Because it felt sooo fucking good.
5
Opening my eyes, a hand is on me, touching my back in a way that screams possession. I’ve read about this in books, but I’ve never had a man hold me in place with one hand while he sleeps before. I’m afraid to move. If I do, I will probably wake him, but I do need to go to the bathroom. Sliding out from under him, his hand falls away, but he doesn’t wake.
Looking at him sleeping, his ass is bare and the sheet that was covering me isn’t over him at all. As I somehow manage to turn away from ogling him, I notice how sore I am from all the sex we had last night.
I quickly wash up and head out, and when I do, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, naked. Moving, he faces me, looks me over, and turns away. His hair is down, and his mass of curls is everywhere. He’s never looked so good.
Gunner spins back to me and his dark, haunted eyes stare right at me. “It’s best you leave, Everly. I have work to do.” The harshness of his voice stuns me. Last night he was calling me bunny and now I’m back to Everly? He says my name with such formality, I honestly don’t know how to take it.
“I was leaving anyway.” I reach for my dress, slide it on as fast as possible then grab my purse. With quick steps I walk out not looking back. A car’s already waiting, and I slide in trying to hold back the tears I know want to fall as I head home.
What an asshole.
I never asked for this, never asked for him. Gunner isn’t a man who’s all hearts, flowers, and romance, and I know that fact. Doesn’t matter, though. The way he treated me still stings. I knew he wasn’t that type of man from the first time I saw him. Women do all the work, as far as he’s concerned, to have him. That’s blatantly obvious now, and let’s face it, he can have his pick. And, I guess, when you look like him, I don’t see why he would be any other way.
It’s Sunday, and that means I have to get to my parents’ house before they send my old bodyguards to get me. I quickly change into a soft, white spring dress that covers everything, and gives me the look of innocence. My matted hair needs a thorough combing—it’s a knotted mess from my activities last night with a certain person who shall not be named.