Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“I thought you’d struggle.”
“Why? All I had to do was get one name. What were you even doing in there, anyway?”
He holds out a fist. It’s clenched around something. “Come get your prize and find out.”
The way he says it doesn’t make me feel good.
I sense a trap, but I don’t know what sort. Brenden’s not going to hurt me. I did everything he asked, and I think I did it very well. I got the bartender’s name without being suspicious about it. If Justin remembers me when his shift is over, he’ll remember my alter-ego, Annie the CPA.
It worked flawlessly. So why does he look upset?
I tentatively move closer. “What kind of prize are we talking about?”
“Something for you.” He remains still, drawing me nearer. I reach my hand to him, palm up.
He drops a simple metal bottle opener into my hand.
“What’s this?”
“It’s what I took.”
I’m about to inspect it when he catches my wrist. I yelp in surprise as he drags me toward him, turning in one smooth motion to pin me against the door. It thuds with a dull boom and rust flutters around me like snowflakes. His mouth is inches from mine, his lips pulled back into a pained snarl.
“What the hell?!” I gasp the words, struggling against him, but he’s got me immobile. His massive body pins me, his thigh between my legs, his hands gripping my wrists and holding them above my head. I’m breathing fast, my breasts rising and falling against him, and my stomach does another lurch, this time with a mixture of fear and lust.
I love it when he’s this close.
But he scares the heck out of me.
“You did what I asked, darling wife, but you did it all wrong.”
I lift my chin and struggle to hold on to some measure of defiance. “You never gave me any rules.”
“You flirted with him.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “So what?!”
“You’re my wife, and you flirted with some worthless bartender.”
“Is that why you’re upset? You’re mad because I used what’s available?”
His jaw works as his lips move closer to my throat. He brushes them against the soft, sensitive skin of my neck as he shifts his mouth to my ear. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“Yes, wife, that’s exactly why I’m angry. You’re mine.”
He kisses my throat. I groan in hungry need. Anger fights desire for only the briefest moment until they’re working together, my rage fueling my need for him. I writhe, but only to grind my core down his leg, bliss filling me like thunder. His mouth comes up and I reach out, smashing the space between us, and I kiss him hard, brutal and quick, painfully good. I bite his lower lip, nibbling harder than I should, but he only lets out the most gorgeous masculine grunt, like he wants me to do it again, and harder this time.
His tongue slips into my mouth. He releases my left wrist and drops a hand down my body, roughly touching my breasts, down to my hips, and slips it between my legs. I gasp in surprise and grab onto his hair, tightly lacing my fingers through and tugging.
His hooded, hungry gaze makes me moan. Or maybe that’s his touch stroking at my pussy.
“You crossed the line tonight and now you’ll have to pay for it.”
“You can’t…” I whimper as he unhooks my jeans. “You shouldn’t…” That doesn’t seem to stop him as he shoves his hand down the front, cupping my bare pussy with his fingers. “Oh fuck, someone might see.”
“Good. Let them."
He curls his fingers until they slip inside. I arch, groaning, taking more of his hand as he slides them deeper. His mouth hammers mine, kissing me hungrily, stroking his fingers in and out and using his palm to grind against my clit.
Pleasure hits me in the teeth. I’m pissed he’s doing this bullshit hypermasculine controlling garbage, but my god, it’s so hot I could break right now. He teases me though, holding me pinned and hostage as his hand does its filthy work, and there are voices at the far end of the alleyway, people leaving the bar. If they look, they’ll see—
Brenden doesn't care. He grinds his palm into my pussy, his big fingers filling me.
“All fucking mine,” he says hoarsely, clearly not in control of himself right now. The wildness is bizarre on him. Normally he lives under layers of protection, years of hardened emotions and solid armor, but right now they’re stripped away. This is the true Brenden: controlling, needy, hungry, bereft of anything resembling moderation.
He bites my shoulder as he sinks his fingers in harder. I grind down into his hand as he slams me, fucking me and stroking me, snarling in my ear as he does it. “Your pretty fucking pussy is mine, Tallie. Your pretty mouth is mine. Your stiff nipples, your firm ass, every inch of your wet tongue, it’s all mine. While you’re my wife, you are fucking mine.”