Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
He wipes his hand across the glass to clear the condensation, then grips his thick shaft and begins moving his fist up and down. My pussy aches. My breathing accelerates as he picks up the pace, the pad of his thumb stroking over his bulging head. His muscles strain, and his delectable moans tighten my core.
“Fuck,” he groans, placing a hand on the glass. I raise mine on the opposite side, moving closer, almost flush. Heat crawls up my back as I watch him, zapping pleasure through my nipples and settling between my thighs. His brow furrows, his hand moving faster. An animalistic hunger takes over his eyes as ribbons of cum pulse from the tip, coating the glass and his fist. His head drops. Rapture captures him. Pulling the door open, I take his hand in mine and suck his finger into my mouth, tasting him.
“You’re beautiful.”
He doesn’t speak. The intensity in his eyes is indecipherable.
I hand him a towel and slip out, leaving him to dry off. His phone vibrates against the table as I walk into his bedroom, the light glowing through the dark room. I don’t mean to look. It’s purely accidental. And my gut clenches.
Thunder booms in my head. I’d know that number anywhere.
Tyler.
CHAPTER 14
DEVIL/KING
The ringer cuts off. My hands are shaking. A pit opens in my chest. Why the hell would Tyler be calling a King? And not just any King.
I need to get out of here. My eyes dart around the room, looking for my boots. I don’t see them. The bathroom door opens and Callan joins me, rubbing a towel through his hair. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and it’s oddly sexy. His serene features are such a paradox to who he is. “Do you know what happened with my clothes and boots?” I try to remain casual but a hive of bees buzzes under my skin.
“Diamond came for them. They were incinerated.” Tossing the towel, he scrutinizes me, his eyes narrowing. “You trying to run, Rogue?”
Pounding roars in my ears. My heart gallops. “I need to get something to drink.” His gaze drops to my lips. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip as he closes the space between us, inhaling me like a wolf learning a new scent. He slides his hand up my chest until his fingers brush my collarbone, the pad of his thumb caressing my raging pulse.
“I want to fuck your throat. Fill your stomach with my cum. Make those stunning eyes water.” My thighs clench, my mind fighting my libido. “Did you like watching me, tasting me?” he asks, his hand creeping around my neck, hovering. The light, salty twang of his cum still coats my mouth.
“Yes,” I exhale. My brain is telling me to run, but my body wants to submit.
Silence hangs heavy between us. He lowers his head to mine. “Let me own you.” There’s so much need in his tone that it physically weakens me.
“I can’t.” It’s a strangled whimper. I pull away and head to the door, praying he allows me to leave. I linger there for a few silent beats. When he doesn’t move—doesn’t say anything else—a tear burns a path down my cheek. Why does this feel like goodbye?
Walking through the clubhouse, I try to be as quiet as possible. Most of the lights are out, and I don’t want to disturb anyone. I find Tim in the kitchen, eating a bowl of pasta. “Hey. Do you think you could give me a ride back to the motel?” I wince, feeling bad for interrupting his meal.
“Everything okay? I heard what you did.” He places his bowl in the sink and digs into his pocket for his keys.
“I’m just glad Cutter’s going to be okay.” I shake it off like it’s nothing.
“I was talking about Georgina.” He throws a set of keys in the air, and I catch them, confused. “Take the Jeep. Kitty won’t mind.” I grimace when he notices I’m shoeless.
“It belongs to Kitty?” I say, trying to move his focus.
“You think I’d drive that if it was a choice?” He pulls a cigarette from his pack and jerks his chin toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
As we pass the foyer closet, he stops me with a tug on my arm. “There’s leftover shit from women who have partied here. Find a pair of shoes.” I want to hug him, but I don’t.
We step outside as daylight creeps over the horizon, wanting to reclaim the sky. Holding the keys up, I ask, “Will you get in trouble?”
“Not if you bring it back.” He lights his cigarette and blows a toxic cloud into the air.
“What happened to your vape?” I ask, nodding to the cancer stick.
He talks with it hanging out of his mouth. “Cutter threatened to ram it up my ass.”