Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“You used to.” It’s not a question.
“Yeah.” He groans as I rub his swollen cock over my clit. I love seeing him like this. “I’ve cleaned up my party ways.”
“Mm.” I take his hand and bring it between my legs. “See what you do to me?”
“Fuck, so goddamn wet.” With a quick glance to make sure I’m okay, he picks me up and turns me over, placing me down the way I asked.
Face down, ass up.
Waiting for nirvana.
I don’t know why this has me panting.
Maybe it’s the sensation of losing control to a wild animal.
Maybe I’m just that far gone, dying to quench a thirst I didn’t know I had.
Maybe it’s because there’s something a little degrading in the air, and I love it.
But when I wiggle my ass at him, he laughs and slaps it gently, just enough to sting.
“Patience,” he whispers.
“Brady, please. You know what I want.”
“But I like my fireworks to last.” His voice lowers as he sinks down, his breath hot against my pussy. “Let me watch you explode like a rocket, Lena. Let me hear you fucking come for me.”
How can I possibly argue with that?
Especially when his tongue does expert persuading.
I never had a prayer.
He takes his sweet time with me, driving me deeper into the frenzy. Kissing, sucking, all tongue and teeth and varying pressure until I’m a mess of sensation.
When he pushes a finger through my wetness, I whimper.
And when he pushes a second finger inside, I feel the way my back arches.
My loud moan echoes off the ceiling.
Good thing this is a penthouse and we’re alone, otherwise he’d have some very unhappy neighbors.
There’s no way I can keep quiet.
I hear him growling his approval a second later, feeling the way the noise quakes through me.
His scruff gives the perfect friction as he buries my clit in his beard.
My hips writhe, wanting more, certain I’m close—I must be because my whole body pulses—and he eases back, not quite giving me enough.
“Brady.” My voice is hoarse, pleading.
“Beg for it,” he commands.
“If that’s what it takes . . .”
I can feel his smile.
“Please, Brady. Please. Make me come!” I strain out as his finger circles my clit in this slow, killing rhythm.
“Say my name. I want to hear it.”
“Brady,” I moan, feeling his need building along with mine. “Brady, please.”
His fingers grip my hips, my ass, as he licks me again, two fingers working, delving deep, stroking me so hard until I’m—
Coming!
It’s flipping blinding, white stars exploding behind my eyelids like new suns.
I muffle my moans in his sofa cushions, gasping needy little breaths, breaking so beautifully.
And I say his name through the rapture.
I whisper it like a prayer, like he’s the only thing that keeps me grounded.
My fingers unclench from the pillow as my orgasm fades. Brady presses kisses to every inch of bare skin he can find.
Ass, legs, up my back.
Famished, hot kisses that linger, even though I know he’s dying to be inside me.
And even though I’ve just come, I want it too.
I shift, looking behind me, reaching for him. His cock jerks in my hand.
“Brady.” One word. His name becomes a prayer.
There’s the harsh sound of fabric sliding as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, and then the hot velvet of his cock presses against my pussy. Just the tip.
Oh God.
Oh God!
“Next time, I’ll make you ride me to the damn moon and back,” he promises.
I shiver at the implication that this won’t be the only time. That he’s only just getting started with me.
But after a frantic heartbeat, he pushes inside me with one brute thrust, and I arch my back. I cry out as delirium takes hold.
Holy shit! The fullness is overwhelming.
The stretch burns my inner walls.
And he’s going deeper.
Deeper.
Undaunted, he groans, bending down to kiss my shoulders. His arm wraps around my waist, fusing me to him.
I relish the sensation so much I don’t care if I have to breathe through the harsh pressure of having him inside me, almost buried to the hilt.
“Easy, Sass,” he murmurs.
All it takes is a few seconds before the shock and discomfort turn to pleasure again.
“Do it,” I spit, arching my neck. “Be rough with me. Take my hair in your fist. Fuck me like it counts.”
The palm of his hand slides up my back, the softest feather caress before my hair finds his fist.
He makes a guttural noise as he pulls.
Yesss.
“More, more,” I plead.
He draws back, though, holding my head up, tugging on my scalp and adding another sensation that blurs the line between pain and pleasure.
Then he thrusts back inside me, not stopping until he bottoms out.
Another liquid moan floods out of me.
His dick is everything, and so is that attitude.
Nothing else matters.
I want everything Brady Pruitt has to give me with that pummeling cock.
Just like this, holding me still, obeying the command of my body.