Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Fuck, yeah, baby. Yes,” he groaned as he twisted his hips and ground against my ass.
I slumped forward, sagging against the inverted sofa cushions.
But he wasn’t finished with me.
His breath was harsh against my cheek when he whispered, “We’re not done.”
My eyes sprang open.
Before I could react, he had flipped me onto my back. I was now lying on the floor along the sofa back cushions with my hip pressed against the seat of the sofa. From this strange position, he spread open my legs and kneeled between them.
This was when I got my first good look at his cock.
My mouth dropped open.
Turgid and thick, it glistened with my arousal as it bucked and bounced between his legs.
My God.
The man had a fucking horse cock. No wonder it hurt so badly. I’d be lucky if I could walk after this.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
My cheeks flamed at getting caught gawking at his junk.
Leaning forward, he rested a forearm above my head, covering me with his considerable height and muscle dense weight. “Look all you want, beautiful. I’ll even give you a taste if you ask nicely.”
I choked as if that thing were already in my throat. “You’re not getting that anywhere near my mouth!”
His lips quirked. “We’ll see.”
The knuckles of his right hand brushed my inner thigh as he grabbed his shaft and positioned the head at my entrance.
“Wait!”
He refused, thrusting forward, straight to the balls.
My back arched as my knees rose into the air on either side of him, as if I were trying to open myself up as much as possible to ease the pressure. Even after the pounding he had just given me, I still wasn’t accustomed to his girth.
His chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing as he pounded into my already sore pussy.
I closed my eyes, assuming he would now be focused on his own release.
Since I’d had my orgasm, it was logical he would do so.
“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”
Even as I hated myself for it, I obeyed.
“You’re coming again for me.”
It wasn’t a request.
My brow lowered as I pressed my hands against his chest. “I’m not a robot. I can’t just come on command.”
His eyebrow quirked upward. “We’ll see about that.”
A few more thrusts and dammit… he did it again. My G-spot. It was like the man had tagged it with some kind of primal radar.
With his free hand, he pushed my still wet T-shirt up, exposing my breasts.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he exclaimed before he leaned down and latched onto my right nipple with his lips, sucking hard, using the edge of his teeth.
My hips bucked again. “Oh, God!”
He sucked on my nipple harder.
I came again, seeing stars behind my eyelids as my legs wrapped around his hips, anchoring him against me.
Before the last ripple had finished, he increased the pace of his thrusts. “My turn.”
My palms pressed against his chest as I breathlessly spat, “Don’t forget to pull out.”
He thrust harder, saying nothing.
My fingers twisted into his chest hair and yanked. “Hey! Pull out!”
He bared his teeth as he threw back his head with a roar.
I tried to shimmy my hips backwards and away from his body, but it was no use. He had me locked beneath him.
Hot come filled my insides and dribbled down my inner thigh as he slowly pulled out.
I curled my hand into a fist and beat it against his chest. “What the fuck was that?”
He leaned back on his haunches and ran his hand through his hair. “I’d say the best sex of both of our lives.”
I fumed in the bathroom mirror as I pressed a warm, wet washcloth between my legs.
That he was right didn’t make it any less wrong.
Nor did the fact that I looked thoroughly fucked.
My hair was a tangled mess of still damp curls. My cheeks were bright pink and…
Jesus Christ… were those hickeys?
Fucking hickeys!
This was not how I envisioned this night going when I set out to get my money from Abakar.
Pushing my hair back, I wrapped it in a tight ponytail with a scrunchie. I then tossed on a pair of yoga pants, thick socks, and an oversized sweater. As I was leaving the bedroom, I grabbed a discarded wool scarf from over a nearby chair and wrapped it around my throat for good measure.
If I’d had my parka in my bedroom closet instead of the hall one, I would have put that on too.
Remembering that I couldn’t leave him alone for too long for fear he might get curious and open the second bedroom door, I left my room to confront him.
The sofa was righted. The candle and ashes from the burnt mail discarded and the coffee table wiped off with only a black scar as evidence of the fire. He was standing in the middle of the room with a mop, wiping the last of the water off the hardwood floor.