Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You get how much I love you, darling?” he growls, pushing the swollen head of his cock past my aching lips. I whimper, bury my face in the sheet. “No? How about now?”
Damn, another inch. His cock piercing hits the spot on my inner wall that makes me clench. So close, so hot, so full, but not the fullness I need.
“Why the silence, Red? What the fuck's got your tongue?” His hand rubs my ass, soft and kneading. Then his voice drops an octave. My breath stops. “Answer me.”
Such a simple command. Accented by the brisk, fiery slap across my ass, which makes me jerk up, breathing again. “Answer,” he says.
“All of you, Marshal. I want it, please. Fuck me.” I barely recognize my own strained voice. I want this so bad it hurts, a thousand times worse than any delicious spanking.
Will I come on the first stroke of my husband's dick? Is that the magic of our wedding night? I'm afraid I'm about to find out.
“Just like that? Fuck my sweet, adorable, ass-like-perfection wife? Is it really that easy?” Marshal's fingers lace through my hair, tugging a fistful.
Oh, God. I'm nodding hard.
Then it happens. He pushes in to the hilt and I think my brain leaves this planet.
It's dark out tonight, but I see everything from that silly poem. The maiden's kiss, the light, the sun, the moon, the stars. I see our loving reflection lit up every day in the future, in our children's eyes, and in Mia's.
I see myself hunkered over him while he rocks our new born baby, so gently I'm crying. I see four kids and a French bulldog. A little boy and two twin girls, plus Mia. All ours. Equal parts miracle and beautiful. I even see my dying breath, him at my side, eyes locked on me so intense they pierce the veil and say, I will fucking find you again.
Not even the end could stop this man. His love bends the very laws of the universe.
He's mine, I'm his, and that's just the end of it.
Simple. Just like the rough heat splitting me in two.
Release is an explosion. One hard whimpering, sheet clawing, cock pinching O.
Then there are many. And I can't tell where they begin or end.
He's striking nerves I didn't know existed, thrusting through my climax. His distant breath gets closer, heavier, more feral every time. My ass slams into him, rippling like never before.
It's vicious, hot, and beautiful. Fitting. It's how loving him has always been: hard, glorious, and a little scary.
But it always works out, doesn't it?
Something sure does while he's power slamming into me, grunting a little louder every time, finding his release. His cock plunges deep, holds, and swells, setting me off all over again.
I reach behind me, gripping his hands. I pinch his fingers so hard I think I do damage.
I don't know. I don't care. The boundaries between our bodies are completely gone, no more divide between his pleasure and mine.
There's just our heat, coming in waves. Burning like a howling napalm fire.
His seed erupts, hurling into me in thick lava ropes, and I'm left pushing my face into the mattress, stifling my screams.
He doesn't pull out for a long time. Marshal roots himself in me, kissing my neck, bringing me back from – hell, what was that? I can't find the words to explain it.
Just know I can't wait for it to happen again.
Eventually, he rolls me over, and pushes into me again, never going soft. He cradles my cheek. I look him in the eye while we're still, his fingers sliding through my hair, eyes driving spikes through my soul.
It should be unpleasant, a love this intense. But Marshal Howard doesn't do weakness.
“We're doing this a thousand more times, Red,” he growls. It ends in a kiss and his forehead pressed to mine.
“Huh? Tonight?!” I look up, more than a little worried. I'm wondering if he's crazy enough to try.
There's the grin I've fallen in love with, shining on his face like an early morning sun. “We'll put a dent in it by dawn, sure. But that isn't what I mean.”
“No?” I study his starry blue eyes. Apparently, our sex is so good it's either made me miss words, or unable to understand them.
Then his hand slides into mine and he kisses me again. “I'm talking about us, darling Red. You and me. Every day. It'll be a thousand fucking lifetimes before I even dream of asking for a breather. And that'll only be because I want a minute to step back, take you, and realize – fuck – you're still mine.”