Repairing the Wreckage – Ruthless & Royal Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
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I find a perfect, pulsing rhythm—back and forth. “Touch me,” I gasp.

He shifts his hand from my breast to my thigh, teasing his wicked thumb over my clit in time to my movements.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Blood pulses through my ears. Electricity sparks over my skin. My body shakes. Pleasure shoots through me and I grind myself down harder.

His hands seize my hips and he holds me tight, snapping his hips up, extending and amplifying my orgasm.

His comes in a slow, agonizing release. He pulls me down over him, fusing our mouths together. He groans against my lips and holds tight.

I cling to him for the longest time. Until our hearts return to almost normal. He lifts me off him and I melt onto the bed, curling into a ball against him. He hugs me to his side and kisses my forehead.

“Coach keeps telling me to meditate,” he rasps. “But I think I just reached a higher plane of awareness and absolute clarity with you.”

Still buzzing with electricity, I kiss his cheek and nuzzle against his neck.

Griff

What planet am I on?

My body’s just sort of floating on the bed. Molly’s sweet, sweaty little body’s clinging to me while she drops soft kisses on every inch of me she can reach.

The absolute clarity I reached—if I win Saturday, I want to ask her to marry me.

That probably wasn’t what Coach was talking about.

“Griff?” Molly’s voice holds a note of hesitation. “You’ve been doing it longer. Is it always like this? Amazing and explosive each time? Does it ever get…boring?”

“Boring?” How the fuck do I answer that? I need her to understand I’m dead fucking serious. “I don’t remember anything before you. But nothing could ever be boring between us. No. Never.”

“You’d tell me if there’s a different way you want me to—” She bites her lip and frowns.

“Everything about you is perfect for me.”

“But if⁠—”

“Molly. I don’t want anything different than who you are.” I tickle my fingers over her ribs. “I love all those sexy fucking sounds you make right before you come.”

Her cheeks redden but she grins at me.

I flex my arm, squeezing her to my side. “Anything different you want me to do?”

To my surprise, she tilts her head and actually seems to consider the question. Well, fuck. Wasn’t expecting that.

I wait, curious what she’s going to say. The corners of my mouth twitch into a smirk. Whatever improvement she suggests, I can’t wait to start working on it right away. Like, immediately.

“You know when I’m on top of you?”

My cock twitches. Fuck yeah, having her ride me is one of my new favorite pastimes. “You mean, like you just did?”

She blushes an ever-brighter shade of pink. “Well, I like when you put your hands right here.” She curls her fingers around my wrist and drags it to her hip and then lower to the crease of her thigh.

My thumb twitches over her soft skin and I grip her tighter. “Like this?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Okay. I can do that.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Why don’t you get on up there and let me give it a try?”

“You’re not mad?”

I open my eyes comically wide. “Am I mad that you want me to put my hands on you?”

She sits up and shifts to her knees, her legs resting near my hip. “No, that I questioned your prowess.”

I snort. “Question anything you want, Muffin.” I clamp my hand over her hip. “I aim to please. Now, get your cute little ass up there and let’s see if I can get this right.”

She giggles and ducks her head. “You do everything right. I just asked for more of something in particular.”

She glances at my spent cock, who is definitely perking up at this new development. “Well, we did say we have a science experiment to conduct.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Griff

This is a battle.

I’m a warrior.

I have the strength.

I have the skills.

The power to win.

I repeat those five things to myself over and over while blasting Rage Against the Machine through my headphones backstage.

Molly’s sitting next to me on the bench, her leg touching mine. Just her presence centers me.

After a few songs, I take my headphones off and open my eyes.

“Let’s get those hands taped,” Underhill snaps. He hadn’t been thrilled I wanted Molly backstage with me. Or that she’d walk out with us. But I really don’t care. He’s a good coach and we clicked during training, but my personal life isn’t open for commentary. You’d think he would’ve learned that during all the pressers.

Remy, Eraser, Underhill, and, weirdly, Dawson Roads, are also walking out with me into the area. Since he sponsored some of my training and flew my friends here on his private jet, he can walk with me anywhere he damn well pleases.

Molly holds up her phone. “Am I allowed to take pictures and video?”



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