Oh You’re So Cold (Bad Boys of Bardstown #2) Read Online Saffron A. Kent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Bad Boys of Bardstown Series by Saffron A. Kent
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Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
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Followed by his growl in my ear, “What’d you say?”

“I—”

He shuts me up with his thrust.

Actually, no. He makes all the words spill out of me as I moan. “Oh God, please. I⁠—”

Again, he squeezes my throat, branding my hip with his fingers. “God, huh. You think”—another thrust—“God’s doing this to you?”

My own hands jerk and go to cover his on my body. “I’m… I don’t…”

One more thrust, this one leaving behind a slapping sound of his hips hitting my ass. “You think God’s fucking you, baby? God’s fucking that tight as all fuck pussy.”

I swallow under his grip. “No. I⁠—”

Yet another thrust. This one harder than the last and I swear the last one was the hardest ever, even compared to last night, and I feel him clear to my stomach with this. “You what?”

I swallow again, turning my head to the side, pleading with him. “It’s h-hard.”

He turns his head too and I feel his words on the side of my face. “What’s hard?”

I flex my fingers over his grip. “N-not saying… His name. You’re⁠—”

This time his thrust jerks my whole body. It jangles my nerves and jars my bones. It makes me spill out His name in a litany, in a prayer. Although I’m not sure what I’m praying for: do I want him to stop, this devious, torturing man, the love of my life who’s deliberately making me break his rule.

Or do I want him to keep going?

Do I want him to keep pushing into me like this, all forcefully and urgently. Like if he doesn’t, he won’t survive the next second. Because that’s what it feels like right now with the way he’s fucking me, with the way he’s holding me as well. Giving me a hug from behind as he strokes in and out of me, all violently and oh so deeply.

“I’m what?” he rasps in my ear, his breaths hot and misty.

Much like his body behind me, all around me. “You’re making me s-say it.”

“Yeah?” He squeezes my throat again, making me arch it back and rest my head on his strong shoulder. “What an unfair asshole am I, huh. Making you do things that are hard.”

“Stellan—”

“But that’s not hard, baby. I’m afraid to burst your bubble.” Another jangling, smacking thrust. “But that’s nothing.”

“I—”

“You want to know what’s hard? You want to know what’s fucking hard? This.” He rotates his hips, making me feel his cock everywhere. Making me feel his cock down to the tips of my toes. Making me feel every ridge and every inch of that vein that I was stroking with my tongue and I moan again.

God, will I ever stop moaning, in pain, in ecstasy, in love?

And in the wake of my moan, he continues, “This dick I’m fucking you with, that’s hard. It’s so fucking hard that it hurts. It hurts to fucking fuck you right now.”

I dig my nails into the backs of his hands. “Stellan⁠—”

“And it’s only going to get harder, isn’t it?” he cuts me off. “It’s only going to get much, much harder because now I have to figure out a way not to come inside this pussy.” As if to emphasize, he jerks his hips hard into me. “I have to figure out a way not to lose my nut inside your tight fucking snatch like I’m losing my mind right now. I’m losing my mind over how tight this cunt is, how warm and wet it is. Wet like a fucking river. Swollen as always like a ripe fruit. But instead of enjoying this fruity pussy, I have to figure out a way to pull out and protect you, isn’t it?”

I roll my head on his shoulder. “P-please, you⁠—”

“Protect your womb from my cum,” he goes on, pounding into me, his fingers pulling and squeezing. “When that’s not what I want to do right now. That’s not what I want to do at all.”

He pauses here and for the next several seconds simply fucks me.

Thank God—I mean, thank you, Stellan.

I don’t even want to break his rule in my thoughts. Because I have a feeling he can read them. He can read my thoughts, hear my heartbeats.

He can feel my soul calling out for him.

Maybe that’s why he says what he says next:

“What I want to do right now,” he begins, his words a rough whisper in my ear and his cock a rough, pulsating invasion in my pussy, “is push so far in, so fucking far up your fertile little cunt that you feel me in your womb. That instead of your pussy, I fuck your womb. I fuck the very thing I’m trying to protect. And then when it’s time to come, I come so much, so fucking much, that your womb swells up. Your womb fucking hurts with my cum. As much as I’m hurting right now. And then every time you walk, baby, you feel a little bit of me drip out of you. You feel a little bit of my cum sliding down your juicy thighs. And not just for days, for weeks. For fucking weeks, I want my jizz to slip out of you, reminding you of the hurt. Of how much you’re hurting me right now. How hard it is to pull out right now.”



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