Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Are you on birth control?” he hisses through his teeth, sounding as if he’s barely restraining himself.
“Yes.” I sigh as he rubs his swollen tip through my arousal.
Guiding himself back to my entrance, I force a ragged breath into my lungs. The mushroom head of his cock feels huge, bigger than I expected. I get the feeling this is going to hurt, but I embrace the pain, welcome it. It’s better than the sadness, the heartache. Anticipation clings to my bones, but I don’t have to wait long.
Skimming his hand down my back, he enters me with one hard thrust and tears through my virginity with ease. He buries himself deep inside of me until his heavy balls press against my ass. Pain rips through me, and I whimper into the pillow, my hands clawing at the cushion as if it could save me from him. I feel like I’m being ripped in two, my insides shredded. Tears prick at my eyes, and I bite my lip to stop myself from screaming.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Jackson grunts behind me, his hands on my hips as he plows into me over and over again.
His strokes are hard, powerful, and they hurt, fuck do they hurt, but beneath the pain is a sliver of pleasure. It sneaks in between each stroke like a thief in the night, and I want both, need both. Feeling impossibly full, I hold on for dear life as he fucks me with primal, raw rage. He’s trying to imprint his hate on me, and I feel it. Feel every fucking lash as if he’s beating me, the belt hitting my skin, and leaving a mark behind.
Fingers dig painfully into my hips, and I know there will be bruises by the time we’re done. Heat blooms deep in my stomach, and slowly I loosen up, opening like a flower in full bloom. Jackson’s balls slap against my clit with each punishing stroke, and it’s enough friction to leave me panting, leave me craving more.
“I hate you,” Jackson growls, releasing my hips, and moving a hand into my hair. He grabs a fistful of hair and tugs my head back, making my neck ache with the angle. My scalp burns, and for a moment, I am catapulted back to that night, the feeling too familiar.
No, no… I don’t want to think about that. Not now, not ever. This is Jackson, not him… I wanted this, asked for it. I force the ugly memories away and concentrate on the here and now. On Jackson. I can smell him all around me, his citrus scent. I am here. Not there.
He releases his hold on my hair, and I let my head fall back down, face-first into the couch cushion. He grabs the back of my neck tightly, so tight it hurts, but it also brings me intense pleasure as he fucks me with every ounce of hate he has.
“I hate you so much. Why did you have to do it? Why? We could’ve been more than this… I could’ve…” His words cut off, but the animalistic tone of them pushes me closer to the edge, and the pleasure trickles in slowly, building at the base of my spine.
“Please,” I beg unsure of what I’m actually asking him to do.
“You want to come? Come on my cock? You think you deserve that?”
“No. Yes. Please,” I gasp into the cushion. My lungs are burning, my entire body is a giant knot of pleasure building up to the breaking point. I can feel my juices dripping down my thighs. I want this. Need it so badly, I might die if I don’t get to come.
“Lucky for you, I really want to feel your pussy strangle my cock.” I can practically see the sinister smile on his lips as he swivels his hips, hitting a spot deep inside of me. It’s like being struck by lightning, every hair on your body stands on end, and you wonder if your heart might stop beating for one second.
“I…” Words try to escape me, but nothing comes out. My entire body tightens, my pussy clamps down on his cock so tightly I’m surprised he can still move inside of me.
Light forms behind my now closed eyes, and my entire body shakes as an orgasm rips through me, stealing the breath from my lungs. The pleasure is so intense, all I can do is sag against the sofa while Jackson uses my body. Aftershocks of pleasure tingle down my spine.
“Jesus, I’m coming,” Jackson warns as he explodes deep inside of me, his sticky warm release painting the inside of my womb. I wish I could see his face, see the pleasure overtake him, but we aren’t lovers, we aren’t even friends. We’re enemies, two broken souls floating through life, the results of a complete and utter tragedy. I knew what he was going to say to me a little bit ago, that he could’ve loved me, but that was the problem here, wasn’t it?