Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
And the bulge.
The bulge showing how much he wants me. How much he needs me.
That part of a man I thought I might never want to see or feel again.
I want to see and feel it more than I ever have.
He slides one hand over my breast, cupping it, thumbing the nipple underneath the fabric of my camisole.
Sparks skitter under my flesh, and I nudge against his bulge, grinding.
He groans another growl into me, and then he breaks the kiss, his eyes on fire. “Bed,” is all he says.
I lead him to my small bedroom, to my unmade bed.
He pulls the cami over my breasts, letting them fall free, and he sucks in a breath. “Fuck. So damned beautiful.”
Warmth spreads over me as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his hard chest, perfect pecs, and abs with just a smattering of black hair over them. I take my lower lip between my teeth, and I gawk at him. Simply gawk. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I saw him shirtless in Jamaica. But in this moment, he’s mine.
All mine.
No one else is looking upon this magnificence except for me.
“Still sure?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
“God, yes.”
He cups both breasts, staring into my eyes. “Fuck. I need you so much.”
I fall against him, literal putty in his hands. “Then take me, Ben. Please.”
He unsnaps and unzips my jeans and thrusts his hand inside my panties. “God. You’re soaked.”
My feet are bare, and I wriggle out of my jeans until I’m standing only in my purple panties.
He slides his fingers under the waistband and glides the panties over my ass and hips, and I step out of them.
He rids himself of his shoes and socks and then undoes his belt and jeans in rapid succession.
When he stands before me, his massive cock jutting from his thick black bush, I gulp.
He’s so beautiful, and I want—
But before I think any further, he grabs a condom out of the pocket of his jeans and sheathes himself, and in another second, I’m on the bed, and he’s inside me.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ben
Fuck.
She’s so tight, a perfect fit.
I stay inside her sweet cunt for a few timeless seconds before I pull out and thrust back in.
Thrust, thrust, thrust…
Hard, hard, hard…
Soft moans fly from Tessa’s throat.
I should do more for her…
I should suck on those gorgeous nipples…
Eat that delicious pussy…
Give her one, two, three orgasms…
And I will.
Just not now.
Thrust, thrust, thrust…
Until—
“God, yes,” I groan, spilling into her.
And with my climax, I release the horror of this day.
Or I try to.
For when the contractions cease, and I move off Tessa, relaxation sweeping through my body…
I find it’s all still there.
The memories of what I did all those years ago.
Dirk, the tooth, his threats about his brother and Tessa.
Everything I thought might miraculously go away.
It’s all still there.
I lie for a moment, my arm over my forehead, and I berate myself.
She gave me permission, but I shouldn’t have done this. I should have taken my time with her. Made love to her the way she deserved. Made her feel as important as she truly is to me.
Instead, I fucked her. I took care of my own needs first.
Now I feel like river scum.
I turn to her. “I’m so sorry, Tessa.”
“For what?” she asks, her voice soft and forgiving.
“Your first time after… It shouldn’t have been like that.”
She kisses my neck. “You told me exactly what you were going to do, Ben, and I said okay. This isn’t on you.”
“It’s not on you, either.”
“It’s on both of us. You told me what you needed, and I told you to take what you needed.”
“But you—”
She reaches forward and quiets me with two soft fingers over my lips. “Please. It’s okay.”
Such overwhelming emotion grips me. It’s…intense. And foreign. And so, so deep and powerful. It’s rage at the thought of what Dirk wants to do to her. Fury at Garrett Ramirez for doing it. Sheer wrath at any threat against her. And fucking madness at the thought of any other man ever frightening her or touching her or even looking her way.
And at the same time, it’s tenderness. Warmth.
Fuck.
It’s that moment when everything in your fucked-up life seems clear as day because you’ve found the one person you’re meant to be with.
It’s love.
I caress her cheeks, her jawline. I kiss her neck, the tops of her breasts. She’s so lovely, flushed from the quick fuck, and despite what she’s been through—her assault and drugging, the death of her father—she put my needs ahead of her own.
This is a woman I can no longer live without. Tessa. She’s the one.
When I move backward, look into her gorgeous eyes, she smiles at me.
All is still good. Thank God.
I play with her nipples using my lips and my fingers, relish in her moans and sighs.
“Now, Tessa,” I say, “I’m going to love you the way you deserve.”