Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I’m his.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to run from belonging to a man.
I hold onto him when his eyes open and meet mine. “Fuck me, Ricci. Fuck me hard,” I whisper, voice raw and shaking.
The words hang between us, dark and violent, and something primitive and fierce flashes in his gaze. He rises over me slowly, eyes never leaving mine—unblinking, intense, burning. Once again, I have the distinct impression of a powerful beast watching me with naked desire. His hands slide under my thighs, lifting them higher, and spreading me wider beneath him. The cool sheets drag against my back, but all I feel is heat—his heat, my heat, the slick, aching core of me where I’m already engorged, ready and waiting for him.
He’s so huge I can barely take him at first.
The head of him presses against me, thick, hot, insistent. I’m no virgin, but when he starts to push inside, the stretch is almost too much. I gasp as my thighs tense, trembling violently around his hips as he sinks inch by delicious inch. The masterful claim is exquisite, stretching me until I feel impossibly full.
“Well done, baby,” he whispers, voice rough and strained, like he’s holding himself together by a thread. “Ready for one last push?”
I nod wordlessly.
His thumbs brush my cheeks, wiping away tears I didn’t even realize escaped. He waits while my body adjusts. Slowly, the burn softens, melts into something deeper, hotter, perfect. Every inch of him fills me completely, stretching me beautifully, pressing against every nerve ending. I whimper again, but this time it’s pleasure, not pain.
An expression of triumph crosses his face, and he starts to move. One deep thrust. My mouth opens in a silent cry of intense pleasure. I thought I was full before. But this: this is indescribably delicious. My legs wrap around his waist, and my heels dig into his firm ass to pull him deeper. That’s when he starts to pump into me. The action is exquisite. Every withdrawal a sweet ache, every thrust an overwhelming pressure that makes my toes curl and my breath hitch.
“Oh God… Ricci…”
Then he changes speed and starts to fuck me like he’s been waiting years. Sure and relentless, his gaze locked on mine the whole time. The deep strokes build pleasure inexorably, until I’m trembling beneath him. My nails claw down his back, and my heels dig harder into his ass, urging him even deeper, faster.
“Ricci…” I sob. The word is frantic, barely coherent, and broken by a thrust. He swallows that sob and kisses me through it like he wants to own every sound I make.
The pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my core until I can’t breathe. Without warning, I suddenly shatter around him. My back arches off the mattress, breasts pressing against his chest, nipples dragging against his skin. I can feel my eyes rolling back and my walls clamping down around his cock in shuddering waves that make him groan my name. A low, wrecked sound. I cling to him like a boneless limpet.
He keeps moving, drawing out every wave, and making sure I feel him through the entire orgasm until I’m completely spent. Finally, he allows his own release. Buried deep inside me, forehead pressed to mine. He groans. A deep, guttural sound. His hot seed fills me until I’m overflowing. It feels slick and warm between us.
When he stills, like a cat, I lick the perspiration from his shoulder—salty, warm—then his throat, his jaw, tasting salt and him. My tongue lingers on the pulse point under his ear, feeling it race beneath my mouth. Everything in me tells me to let go—to keep my heart locked away like it’s always been—but I’ve never felt more cherished, safer, or more sated than I do at this moment. So… I refuse to let go. I hold him tighter, face buried in his neck, breathing him in—cedar, smoke, sweat, sex—and then I do what I have never done before.
I fall right asleep in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
RICCI
Iawake suddenly.
The room is dark except for the faint silver glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. I don’t know how long I’ve been out. Hours maybe, but the moment consciousness returns, I immediately feel her. Really feel her. Her body is warm and heavy against mine, completely relaxed in a way I could never have imagined. Her head rests on my chest, and her blonde hair pouring across my dark skin like silk, one slender leg edging against my thigh. Her breathing is slow and deep. The scent of her—jasmine and sex, fills my lungs with every inhale. My arm is thrown protectively around her waist, as if I’m afraid she’ll vanish if I don’t hold on.
Making love to her turned out to be unimaginably different from my best fantasies.