Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
My body reacted instantly.
I clenched my jaw and breathed through it. I’d taken her more than once last night—hadn't been able to stop myself. Each time, she’d met me with those wide eyes and soft gasps, like I was giving her something she didn’t know she’d needed until she had it. I'd made her come with my mouth, my fingers, and finally my cock, over and over, until she’d gone limp in my arms and passed out with my come still dripping from her pussy.
I’d barely slept, but I felt more rested than I had in years.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, unfocused for a second before they landed on me. Then she smiled. A sleepy, content little curve of her lips that punched through my ribs like a fucking round straight to the heart.
“Morning,” she whispered.
“Morning, baby.”
She shifted again, and I caught the way her brow twitched. It was small and subtle, but I noticed.
My palm slid down to her thigh, squeezing gently. “You sore?”
Her nose scrunched, and she nodded once. “A little.” Then her lips quirked. “But in a good way. Like my body finally did something worth being sore over.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh and ducked in to press a kiss to her forehead. “You let me know if it gets to be too much.”
“It won’t.”
I kissed her again. Slower this time. Letting myself savor the feel of her lips beneath mine. She sighed into it and shifted closer, one hand sliding down my chest, her fingers slipping lower.
My cock hardened instantly, and I caught her wrist before she got too far. “No.”
She blinked up at me, surprised.
“Not yet.” I brushed my thumb over her skin. “You need to give your tight little pussy a break, baby. I wasn’t gentle last night. Not even the first time.”
“Did you hear me complaining?” Her voice was sassy, but a pretty pink blush bloomed on her cheeks.
“No, but I wasn’t careful.” I shook my head and muttered, “If I buried myself inside you the way I’m dying to, you wouldn’t walk for a week.”
Her breath caught, and I felt a shiver ripple down her spine. “Okay.”
Fuck, I loved that she didn’t try to argue. She was clearly turned on but willing to do what I asked. I groaned. “When you’re such a good girl, it makes it hard as fuck not to be bad.”
She giggled, and I kissed her once more, then pulled back and climbed out of bed. The second the sheets shifted off my skin, she let out a soft sound of protest, but I just leaned down and scooped her into my arms.
Laughing, she looped her arms around my neck as I carried her toward the bathroom. I kicked the door open and stepped inside, going straight to the shower and flipping on the water.
“I can’t fuck you,” I murmured against her ear as the steam began to rise around us, “but I can still make you come. If you’re a good girl and do exactly what I say, I’ll show you all the other ways I plan to ruin you.”
Her sharp intake of breath was the only answer I needed.
By the time we stepped out of the shower, both of us were clean but still humming from what I’d done to her under the water. Her cheeks were flushed, and her legs were a little unsteady. I handed her a towel and watched her wrap it around that perfect, curvy body like it wasn’t driving me crazy to cover her up.
She dressed in some borrowed clothes from Stella while I pulled on clean jeans and a long-sleeve black thermal, shoving the sleeves up my forearms as I moved across the room.
Maren was barefoot, standing near the edge of the bed, wearing black leggings and a soft blue hoodie. Her damp hair was combed through but still dripping a little down her back, curling at the ends.
I crossed the room, grabbed my extra cut from the chair, and slipped it onto her shoulders before she could argue. It was too big. The shoulder seams were too wide, and it hung down below her curvy hips. But the second the leather settled over her, something primal inside me eased.
Maren’s mouth parted slightly, her fingers gripping the front edges of the vest like someone might try to take it from her. That was so far from the truth. Eventually, I’d explain to her that wearing it meant she was claimed, protected, and untouchable.
I led her downstairs without another word and sat her at the kitchen island while I pulled out eggs, bacon, and a skillet.
“Thank you.”
“You’re mine,” I replied as I cracked an egg. “You don’t thank me for taking care of you.”
My movements were efficient. Familiar. I didn’t ask if she was hungry. I just cooked, plated the food, and set it in front of her with a glass of orange juice.