Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“They won’t care,” he told me. “We’ll see them all tomorrow. Everybody’s drunk by now, anyway.”
He opened the door to our room and pulled me inside.
“Rock, I—”
He shut the door hard behind us, pausing for a moment in the dark room. There were no lights on, and we were illuminated only by the ambient glow floating in from the window.
I could only see his silhouette. He took a step toward me, pushed my back against the door, and kissed me again. Hard, this time.
A shudder ran through me. He really wasn’t kidding. I’d won some kind of lottery I hadn’t even known I was playing, and the prize was this insanely hot straight guy claiming me like I belonged to him. And who was I kidding? In this moment, I really was completely his.
His chest pressed against mine, flooding me with his body heat. He slowly buried his hands in my hair, holding me. Every last inch of my body was covered by some part of his.
I let out a shuddering breath as he pulled away, his lips never leaving my skin. He dragged them across my jawline, open-mouthed, like he was just trying to breathe me in. I swore I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor at any moment. He was so sensual, so hungry and possessive, and it dawned on me that this must have been what he really was like when he hooked up with people. Everything until now had felt amazing, but something had kicked loose inside him. Like he was finally showing me everything he could do.
“Oh, God, Rock,” I whispered, barely able to control what came out of my mouth.
“What?” he said, his voice thick with desire, deep and throaty.
“Nothing,” I said. How the hell was I supposed to explain that he was unraveling me like goddamned thread right now?
“Not nothing. Say it,” he told me. A command. Why was that so hot?
“I don’t know,” I murmured, too focused on the feeling of his lips on my neck, now, as he gently sucked on the tender skin underneath my jawline. It may as well have shot straight down to my cock for as good as it felt.
“Tell me,” he growled, running his hands down the sides of my body, clasping them around my waist hard.
“I want you,” I said, my voice a breathy whisper.
He groaned, low and satisfied, bucking his hips forward against me. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Say it again.”
He slowly brought the palm of his hand lower, running it along the fabric of my pants toward my cock. Suddenly the fabric felt far too soft, far too good.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
“Say it,” he told me a second time. I could feel his breath against my skin. He let the warmth of his palm land on my erection, then, and soon he was palming my cock through the fabric.
He was a monster. A villain. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or beg him to make me come.
“I want you so fucking bad,” I said, my words coming out slow and raspy. The final word broke off into a desperate gasp, and it only seemed to fuel him further.
“I like that.”
The warmth of his hand was gone from my cock a moment later and I almost whimpered at the loss of his touch. His fingers found my hands instead, lacing through my own and pulling me over toward the bed. He sat down on the edge of it, grabbed me by my hips, and yanked me in between his legs.
I stood right at the edge of the bed, his knees on either side of me. I looked down at him, and now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see his face in the dark room.
I knew that look. The look of someone who was horny as hell. The look that meant someone would make a million fucking mistakes just to get off, to feel a release, to come as hard as they could. Rock was just as pent up as I was, and at this point, I honestly didn’t know if either of us were in control of ourselves.
He slid his palms from my hips upward, to the small of my back.
“Don’t do something you’re going to regret,” I said.
“I’m not going to regret a thing.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You think I don’t find you just as hot when I’m sober?”
“Jesus, Rock,” I whispered. That couldn’t be true. Could it?
“I’m just saying,” he told me, his fingers now slowly creeping beneath the lower hem of my shirt, touching bare skin. “I’m just saying that I’m definitely not going to regret a thing. Are you?”
I pulled in a shaky breath. “God, no.”
“Good. Because I think I need you tonight.”
Instantly he pulled me down onto the bed, and my body falling on top of his. He caught my lips in another deep kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging.