Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
His thumb drags across my bottom lip, his gaze tracking the movement. That simple touch ignites a fire in me that’s been smoldering for what feels like weeks. Even the orgasm he gave me hasn’t tempered it. If anything, it’s worse.
My fingers play along the hem of his shirt before sliding underneath. Jude’s head drops back against the wall on a sexy groan when I scratch my nails over his firm stomach.
I have no idea what I’m doing—none—but I’m committed to riding this intoxicating wave of want, willing to drown in it if need be. I make another pass over his abs, creeping closer to the waist of his jeans.
“You should stop.” He latches on to my wrist, his burning gaze meeting mine, full of such dangerous promises. I don’t want to stop. I want him to talk dirty to me while he fucks me. I want to see what his face looks like when he comes.
“You should fuck me.”
He closes his eyes and drops his head back against the wall on a groan. “You’re drunk.”
“So were you the other night.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk.”
I snort. “That’s bullshit.” I shift from the floor, straddling his lap. His hands go to my hips, as if he would stop me, but instead he guides me over the hard bulge in his jeans.
“Tor…” There’s an edge of restraint to his voice, but the friction is too good to stop, so I keep going. “This is fucking wrong...” he mumbles against my skin, his hold growing tighter while his teeth skim my throat.
“You always say that.” I hold onto his shoulders and press my hips down harder, biting back a moan. “You let me go.” And I came back. Then came. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I want him to ruin me like he promised.
On a groan, his hips buck up. His grip tightens as he fucks me through our clothes, like I’m sixteen years old again and straddling the bad boy my parents had forbidden me to see in the back of his car. But there is nothing boyish about Jude.
“Fuck…” Fisting my hair, he sinks his teeth into my neck. His shoulders tense beneath my fingers. Like it’s taking every bit of strength he has to restrain himself.
I want more. I want all of him. “I want you, Jude,” I breathe against his neck. It’s a needy confession, one I wouldn’t make if I were sober.
I go for his belt, but he grips my wrist, stopping me. “I’m not going to fuck you, Tor.”
And that stings. It shouldn’t, but it does.
Setting my jaw, I ride him harder. The bite of his fingers grows demanding as he forces me over him. My entire body tightens, before the orgasm slams into me, and I moan his name like a porn star. He can replay that in his head later when he’s got his dick in his hand instead of my pussy.
Jude
Tor flips me off on her way out of the bathroom. If she weren’t three sheets to the wind right now, I’d fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to sit down without feeling used. Her being drunk is the only thing that stopped me.
I swipe a hand over my face, replaying the way she moaned my name when she came,
and it’s that thought that has me unfastening my fly, not giving a crap that the door to the bedroom is still half-open.
I fist my hard cock while the image of her naked and underneath me plays through my mind, those perfect little tits of hers bounce with each hard thrust I make. I imagine watching my cock sink into that tight, wet pussy until I’m completely buried, balls deep and she’s milking me for all I’m worth—that’s enough to get me really going. The fantasy plays out: Her on her knees, me fisting her hair while I fuck her mouth.
Three minutes is all it takes before my muscles tighten on a groan, my balls drawing into my body as heat fires through me.
That little dry humping stunt of hers has me wound so tight, come goes everywhere. The back of my skull hits the wall on a hard breath, and not long after, the sensation of pleasure ripping through me dissipates.
My hand is no substitute for her pussy, but at least it took the edge off.
I clean myself up and I go into the bedroom. Tor lies, passed out, on the bed with her shoe-covered feet dangling off the end. Sunlight streams through the window, catching on her cheek. There’s something innocent about her even though she’s been robbed of everything, something that pulls me toward her like lightning to the ground. Something trying to convince me that since she came back, it makes this okay…
I take off her shoes, tossing them to the floor before I climb into bed beside her. I don’t even get adjusted on my pillow before she curls into me, and without hesitation, I wrap an arm around her and draw her closer.