Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
He yanks the belt free, and time slows down to a crawl. The leather slides through the loops of his jeans with a soft hiss before he tosses it aside. His hands move to the button of his jeans, and I can’t stop staring at every deliberate, calculated movement, knowing he’s drawing this out just to torture me. The button pops open, and I can see the outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, thick, hard, and massive. My mouth waters as my pussy throbs harder with every second he drags this out.
He steps out of his jeans, and now he’s standing there in just his boxers. His chest is broad, sculpted, the kind of muscle that makes me want to run my tongue over every inch. His abs are tight, defined, and there’s a trail of dark hair leading down, down, down, disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers. My fingers itch to grab him, to pull him down on top of me, but he’s not done yet. No, he’s going to make me fucking beg.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice low and gravelly, like he’s barely holding himself together.
“You,” I gasp, my voice trembling. “I want you to fuck me.”
His cocky, arrogant smirk should piss me off, but instead, it sends another wave of heat crashing through me. “Good girl,” he purrs, and then he’s crawling onto the bed, hovering over me. His body is so close I can feel the heat radiating off him. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wide, and I’m exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. His fingers brush against the slick fabric of my panties, and I nearly scream from the sheer intensity of it.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he murmurs, tearing my panties off. The fabric rips with a sharp snap, and then his fingers slide between my folds. I arch off the bed, and my head falls back as a moan tears itself from my throat. “So fucking wet for me,” he growls, and curls his finger inside me, dragging against my walls in a way that has me seeing fireworks behind my closed eyelids.
I writhe beneath him, grinding against his hand, desperate for more, but he’s relentless, teasing me, torturing me, until I’m practically sobbing with need. “Please,” I beg, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you.”
“Say it again,” he commands, his voice thick with desire.
“I need you,” I moan, louder this time, my body trembling with anticipation.
He withdraws his fingers, and I whimper at the loss. He rips off his boxers, and his cock springs free, thick and hard and perfect. He lines himself up with my entrance, and I feel the hot, thick tip pressing against me. He thrusts deep, filling me until I’m stretched to the limit. My body screams with pleasure as he rotates his hips to the side.
“Fuck.” His breath brushes against the side of my face as he starts moving. He thrusts into me with a rhythm that’s brutal and possessive, his hips slamming against mine with every stroke. I’m lost in it. I dig my nails into his back and wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper, harder, until I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, and I can feel him everywhere as his cock pounds into me. His hands tighten on my hips while his teeth graze my neck. It’s too much, it’s not enough, and I’m falling apart beneath him. My orgasm builds, threatening to shatter me into a million pieces.
“I’m close,” I gasp, my voice trembling, and he growls in response, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, until I’m screaming his name, my body convulsing around him as I come apart in his arms.
He follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing inside me as he spills himself deep, filling me until I’m overflowing. And then he collapses on top of me, his breath ragged, his heart pounding against mine, and I know, without a doubt, that I’ve finally found my home.
CHAPTER 12
SETH
At exactly six minutes past seven a.m., I’m in the middle of the world’s best erotic dream when the doorbell shatters the silence. It doesn’t just ring once or even twice. No, it’s four times, each press so deliberate and precise, it’s like the person on the other side expects a tuxedoed butler to answer.
I jerk awake, instantly aware of Frankie’s bare leg tangled over my hip, her wild hair a soft snarl across my chest. Her lips are parted just enough for a tiny, adorable snore. For a split second, I consider letting whoever it is give up and go away. But the bell sounds again in the same relentless cadence. Whoever’s out there means business, and I have a sneaking suspicion who it is.