Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"No, Roman." She tips her head back to look at me, still glaring. "You don't get to shut me out and pretend you're trying to protect me. I'm not afraid of you. You don't scare me."
Why doesn't she ever fucking listen to me? I swear to Christ, she was put on this earth just to drive me insane.
"Mila–"
"I'm not fragile, Roman. Stop treating me like I am." She reaches out and grabs my dick through my jeans like she owns it. Anger snaps and sizzles in her green eyes, just fucking daring me to try to stop her.
A strangled groan tears from somewhere in my chest. My entire body shakes as desire rips through me.
"I'm not afraid of you," she says again, squeezing me with one hand. Her other goes to work on the button of my jeans. She pops it loose before pulling the zipper down.
I stand completely still, not even breathing as I fight for control…for the willpower to move away from her before I lose it completely.
She tugs my jeans down, freeing my cock.
"Mil–" I groan again when she wraps one hand around my dick, her gaze still locked on mine.
"You're the one who dragged me into that bar to dance. You don't get to be pissed off at me about it now." She drops down to her knees and licks her lips, still watching me. Still pissed. "If you want me so fucking much, take me."
"Fuck!" I yell, my head hitting the door hard when she wraps her lips around me and plunges down, taking me all the way to the back of her throat in one move.
She moans around me, sending vibrations up and down my dick. My hands clench into fists, every muscle in my body locked tight. I can't resist her, though. Not when every beat of my heart belongs to her.
"Goddammit, Mila." I plunge my hands into her hair, holding her tightly.
Her gaze flits to mine, her eyes so dilated with desire she looks as frantic as I feel. Maybe she does feel the same way I do—the clawing, desperate need to take and fuck and consume and burn. Maybe it's as painful for her, as fucking overwhelming and terrifying.
I've never wanted anything like I want her. I've never needed to possess and claim and own like I need to do with her. I want to dominate her, force her into submission. I want to strip her raw and bury myself into her until she can't remember what it's like not to have me in her.
That desire is even more overpowering now that she's in Los Angeles with me, in danger because of me.
Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, her teeth raking against the underside just hard enough to send a bolt of pleasurable pain through me. She moans loudly, those green eyes locked on me as she wordlessly begs me to give in, give up, and take her.
"Goddammit," I growl again. My hand tightens in her hair, pulling until I know it has to hurt.
She likes it, though. She fucking smiles at me around my cock and moans again. Desire flares brighter in her eyes.
She wants this.
And I'm done trying to convince myself that she can't handle it. She can. I fucking know she can. She'd take anything I gave her and still want more. Still beg for it.
I tilt her head back and thrust forward, pushing my cock deeper into her mouth. She gags when I force my way into her throat, causing the muscles to constrict around me. I don't pull back and give her a reprieve like normal, though. I push forward a little further, forcing her to take more of me.
Her eyes are wild with lust, radiant with triumph when they meet mine.
I jerk my hips backward, expelling myself from her mouth all at once.
She cries out at the loss, grasping for my thighs as if she can force me back where she wants me. I bite back a groan, hating the way it feels when I'm not in that sweet mouth, but I don't give her what she wants.
She lives for sucking me off. Having my cock in her mouth and my hands in her hair is as close to heaven on earth for her as she can get. Like I already told her, though…she'll take what I give her, not the other way around.
"Told you not to push, or I'd push back, Mila," I tell her, reaching out to pluck her up from the floor with my hands under her arms. She squeaks like she always does, like it still surprises her that I can pick her up, and then her legs are around my waist, pushing her dress above her hips.
I turn us, putting her back to the front door. I use my body to pin her where I want her. My mouth lands against her collarbone. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs full of her scent. She smells like she tastes—like peaches, sunshine, and sweet wine. I'm addicted to that flavor and to the way her skin feels beneath my lips. She's soft and smooth everywhere, and I can't get enough of her.