Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Her clamped nipples are right in front of me but too far for me to reach with my mouth. I free a hand and unclamp them one by one.
She cries out, her inner muscles clenching on me as she slides further onto my dick. Fuck me. The pressure is perfection. I’m going to die from this. I’ll go willingly. Just please don’t let me cum before she does.
I focus on her face, her frantic expression. Forget everything new I’m feeling, I need to make this good for her. Her hands brace on my abs. Her legs are shaking. “It’s so much.”
“You can take it.”
She whimpers, but her muscles ease, letting me in. Her eyes flutter closed.
“Eyes on me.”
She obeys. She looks at me like I’m her god.
I cup the side of her face and drink in that look. She won’t let me kiss her, but I can have this. “Are you ready for me to move?”
She looks concerned but rocks a little, experimenting. Then nods.
“Easy.” I work my hips, showing her how to ride me in an easy, rolling motion. I’m still holding her up, and she’s not fully seated on me, not yet. I can’t give her all of my dick, not yet. I have to hold some back.
I hold her tight and increase the speed of my thrusts.
“Look at me,” I order. “We’ll come together.”
“I can’t—”
“I got you.” I steady her with one hand and find her clit with the other. The bliss breaks over her face.
And suddenly, I feel nothing but pleasure. Usually, I can’t feel anything but pressure, but I can feel this. She’s so expressive, but now I’m with her, drowning in the ecstasy in her eyes. She feels everything so strongly, and somehow, I can feel it through her.
It wrecks me. It’s everything, but it’s too much. “Fuck,” I growl and punch my hips into her harder, careful to pull back before I give her too much. One day, I’ll fuck her and give her every last inch. She wants the intensity, but she’s a damn virgin. I can’t break her, I won’t. I don’t leash my violence for anybody but her.
She breaks apart, moaning, and I let myself go, cursing and letting my cum spurt into her. She fucking wrecked me, and I was barely inside her.
“Good, baby. You did so good.”
I pull her shuddering body over me. The skin of my naked chest is numb, but underneath the layer of muted sensation, tingles spread like tiny needles pricking my skin.
It hurts, but that’s okay. I’ll take the pain if I can have her like this.
I must have fallen asleep, because when I wake up, someone is screaming.
They’re not nearby but close.
My head’s pounding. Pain radiates out from behind my eyes. Headache. Like I’ve had too much to drink.
My skin is still tingling, like more nerve endings are coming alive. It hurts so bad. I grit my teeth. I’ve hurt worse.
I’m lying on the couch and Bella’s on top of me, fast asleep. The room is stuffy and too warm.
And somebody’s screaming. I need to check it out.
I shift Bella off of me and make sure she’s comfortable before I grab my clothes and dress to open the door. The rave is still going on, but there are fewer people on the dance floor. More doors are lit up on the wall opposite me.
“I can see god,” someone screams. A few of the party people are literally trying to climb the walls. Everywhere I look, people are laughing. High-pitched hysterical laughter.
But something’s wrong.
I glance back at Bella, who’s sleeping, completely out. Then I grab my skull bandana and exit the room, making sure the door locks from the inside.
Something’s up. My brothers might need help.
I find Atticus at the bottom of the stairs in a pair of boxers with fuzzy slippers on his feet.
“What’s happening?”
“They’ve gone completely crazy,” he sounds calm. We look out over the dancers. There’s a two-drink limit at Club Empire on most nights. Tonight is special, but the bartenders know to cut people off before they get drunk.
“Drugs?” I ask.
“That’s my guess.”
A shout rings out and then another. At the far end of the room, the velvet curtains shake, and then a steady stream of men in suits bursts onto the dance floor. They’re all armed. Several are holding machine guns.
The fuck? I go to take a step, and Atticus stops me. “Wait, so far no one’s shooting.”
He’s right, but I don’t like it. They came into our house, armed. Who the fuck are these guys? They’re in dark blue body armor with some sort of silver insignia on their sleeves.
They advance across the floor, grabbing dancers, pulling off their masks, and then shoving the confused people away. Even in their altered state of mind, the dancers realize they’re in danger and start to flee.