Series: The Moretti Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I wish I didn’t want you so much,” I growl into her ear and suck on the tender flesh beneath it. Her breath hitches in her throat, and with each stroke of my finger on her clit, her body melts further into mine.
My cock stiffens, begging to be unleashed and let inside of her tight cunt, but she’s not getting my dick tonight. Moving my fingers lower to her tight entrance, she lets out a frustrated sigh but shuts her mouth when I sink two thick fingers into her at once.
“So tight, so fucking perfect. You have no idea how jealous my cock is right now,” I say against the back of her neck, pumping my fingers in and out, listening as the sound of her arousal fills the room.
“Oh, god. Please, don’t stop, please, don’t.” Her hand latches onto my arm. Her tiny nails sink into my skin, and I kiss the side of her neck harder, sucking on her, wanting to imbed myself deep inside her.
Keeping my pace, I grind my palm against her clit, knowing it’ll be the final blow.
“Come for me, squeeze my fucking fingers. Show me what my cock is missing.”
Muscles stiff, her entire body locks up. I bet her toes curl. Her cunt tightens around my thick fingers, trying to push me out as she shudders against me, and her orgasm overtakes her, dragging her into the deep dark waters of pleasure.
Like a feather, she slowly drifts back down to reality. Her pulse thunders beneath my lips, and I gently kiss her flesh while continuing to hold her tight against my chest.
After a few minutes, I ease out of her panties and remain holding her.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“I don’t like withholding pleasure from you. I want to make you feel good.” The words are the most honest thing I think I’ve ever said to a woman.
“I know.”
It’s the last thing she says before she falls asleep, her soft snores filling the air a short time later. As I close my eyes, I wonder if there could be more to us. If the lies were pushed to the wayside, could we be something more? Could it be more than pleasure and pain? Captive and captor?
I feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into sleep, and then I hear it, a loud crash that has me shooting into a sitting position on the bed.
25
Fallon
I’ve never gone from a deep sleep to being wide awake so quickly. A crashing sound startles me, and my eyes fly open. In an instant, I know something is wrong. I’m on high alert, and so is Markus, who is already sitting up in the bed next to me.
He moves with lightning speed, pulling on some pants and grabbing something from beneath the bed. The moonlight coming from the window reflects against shiny metal, and I realize he is holding a gun.
There was a fucking gun lying just mere feet away from me this whole time?
“Go hide in the closet, and do not come out until I give you the all-clear that everything is good,” Markus orders.
For a moment, my feet are lodged like sticks in the mud, and I stand there looking at his gun. I know chaos is taking place all around me, swirling like an approaching hurricane, but I can’t bring myself to move.
When I don’t follow his command, he takes matters into his own hands and grabs me by the arm. About that time, I snap out of it, but he’s already dragging me across the room. He shoves me into the dark closet and shuts the door, the slam of it is deafening.
My heart is beating so loud and fast, for a few minutes, that’s all I can hear—my own heartbeat thundering in my ear, and against my ribcage like a sledgehammer.
The walk-in closet I’m in is pitch black, besides the sliver of moonlight escaping through the narrow window. I sit and stare at that small sliver of light, hoping and praying that nothing bad will happen.
Then suddenly, there is a crash, something breaking, glass shattering, and males growling.
Markus is fighting someone. Somehow, that thought calms me a little. Markus is a big guy, muscular and taller than most men. If someone shoots him, he could die quickly, but in a fistfight, he probably has the upper hand… unless he is outnumbered.
Stepping closer to the window, I shove onto my tiptoes and peer down into the dark yard. I search for a car, but instead, find a man standing on the grass near the front door. He looks up and straight at me, almost as if he knew I would be standing here.
I suck in an unsteady breath before I seize to breathe altogether. I’m suffocating, drowning in a sea of terror.
Only when he doesn’t react, do I realize he must not be able to see me through the window. That fact doesn’t do much to calm me, though. There are at least two men here and only one Markus. He’s outnumbered, which isn’t good.