Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
His hand slid to my clit, and he began circling there, massaging me.
Lust built and built the more he rubbed, then he slid a finger inside of me, stretching me.
I caught my breath.
He leaned in, his mouth finding my throat. He nuzzled there before moving up, kissing my chin, then my lips again. He spoke against them as he slid a second finger inside, moving both within me. “Your hymen is still intact. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I moved my head in permission, soundless.
He inserted a third finger, still stretching me.
I grunted. The pain was there.
He pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “This will hurt.”
I tilted my head, my mouth closing over his fully, and I was done waiting. I lowered myself over him. His hand slipped out, but only went to help align himself with me. His other helped guide my hips.
I tensed.
“You need to relax.” His tongue slid inside of my mouth.
Need shook me.
He felt my body trembling. His one hand slipped to the small of my back, his palm splaying out, anchoring me. “Baby, are you su—”
I sheathed myself over him, feeling him entering me and pushing past that resistance.
It hurt. He was fully inside of me, but he waited, holding firm. He pulled my body against his and his mouth gaped over my throat. “Holy fuck. You’re tight.” His teeth skimmed my neck, but he still held still.
Both of his hands went to the tops of my legs, just touching me there.
I tried to move.
He pressed down. “No. Wait. You need to adjust to me.”
I dropped my head to his neck and mewled against him, needing this pain to go away. I’d waited so long, and it was an annoyance. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. “Wait, Blake. God. Please. Fucking wait. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
Hearing his voice break, I settled, but then I was just gasping for breath. And suddenly, I needed him to be completely naked. I wanted skin on skin. Almost frantic, I pulled at his shirt. A desperate cry ripped from me because I couldn’t get it off him fast enough.
He helped, then reached for my sweatshirt until finally, blessedly, I felt his naked skin against mine. There was a sheen of sweat that had worked over his chest. Feeling his heart pounding through his chest, it thumped against my own. He smoothed a finger up the side of my body, his thumb taking over, trailing up my arm, to my throat, to my chin, and he tipped my head to meet his. His mouth dropped back over mine.
“I need you.”
He sighed in surrender, and began to move.
It hurt.
He continued going inside of me. The pain began to lessen as the pleasure began to awaken.
“Eight,” I sighed.
Suddenly there was only pleasure.
I’d never felt anything as good as this. It was swirling through me and building and writhing, and I wanted more of it.
I pulled on his hair, as hard as I could, needing, just needing more.
He bit out a curse, reached up, and disengaged one of my hands. “You can scrape me up as much as you want, but I need my hair.”
Right, I realized belatedly, but he was thrusting up into me, and I forgot all about what he said. Except the part where I could scrape him. My nails raked over his back. He trembled under my touch.
I liked knowing that I could make him react like that, so I did it again. And again.
He shook every time until he clamped an arm tight around me and flipped us so I was on my back and he was settled between my legs. He stayed inside of me, only paused once to make sure I was okay. My head fell back against the bed, and I moaned. “Fucking move. Now.”
A husky laugh left him before he cursed. He took hold of my hip and used that for traction so he could thrust at a deeper angle.
I grasped onto the back of his head again, but remembered about his hair. I only tugged on him lightly, lifting his head so I could assert my mouth to his again. I liked kissing him as he was moving inside of me. “I’m not fragile.”
“You’ll be sore.”
A sound of frustration rose from me. I scowled at him. “I want you to fuck me.”
Something snapped inside of him. I caught my breath, seeing a glimpse at the monster I knew resided inside of him. He rose over me, yanked me down at a different angle, and braced himself against the headboard. He reared back only to slam into me.
Yes. Yes. This was what I wanted.
This was fucking. I didn’t want anything smooth that might’ve resembled lovemaking. I wanted primal and carnal and animalistic, and this was what he was giving me. He pounded into me, no longer holding back for me. This. I shivered, my hands skimming his neck, to his shoulders, to his back.