Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
All the way inside me.
When I feel the barrier give, I cry out with the sudden, sharp pain. He moans, the sound something animal coming from deep inside his chest, as warmth coats my insides.
Blood. My virgin blood.
“Zeke. Oh God. Zeke. Please. It hurts.” His name is a breath on my lips. My fingernails dig into his shoulders, drawing his blood, bleeding him like he is me.
His breath is ragged and he’s holding still. I look at his face and I see how much effort it’s taking for him to be still. He meets my eyes, bites his lower lip, and with what I can only describe as a growl, he draws back only to thrust again. I cry out as he draws me up and closes his mouth over mine. He moans, and kisses me hard and does it again, forcing the air from my lungs.
“Fuck. Blue. Fuck.” He shudders, brings the thumb of one hand to my clit and the instant he does, everything changes. Every fucking sensation like a tidal wave taking me under. He moves inside me, deep and hard, and his thumb, it circles my clit, rubs it. Pleasure is edged with pain, warm and wet between my legs, the moaning mine, not his. And I realize I’m going to come.
He’s going to make me come.
But then he pulls out with a grin.
I protest. He knew. He fucking knew.
“Not yet. You don’t deserve it just yet, do you?” He flips me over, gets on his knees on the bed and hauls my hips high. With one hand he grips my hair and pushes my face down into the bed before he starts fucking me from behind, fingers of one hand on my clit again, the other digging into the flesh of my ass as he splays me wide and when I turn to watch him, he’s watching himself fuck me and he’s so beautiful. He’s so fucking beautiful like this. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his lips are swollen and his eyes, his eyes have gone black. When they meet mine, there’s a darkness to them, a desire so insatiable, so wild, it makes my insides quake.
“You’re mine, Blue,” he groans. “Mine. All mine,” he says, fucking turning frenzied, hard and fast and deep and I am out of control.
“I’m going to come,” I cry out, the sensations overwhelming, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and as I watch him, his beautiful face, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my back, this man, my captor, my enemy, I come. I come so hard the world goes black around the edges as orgasm passes in waves through me, making me his, making me only his. Making me want to be his.
He bends over me, body warm and solid at my back and closes his mouth over the curve of my neck. He stills. I hear a muttered curse against my skin. His breath is hot and warm, his tongue wet. Fingers dig into tender flesh. His cock throbs and I feel the spurting of come inside me and there is nothing else I want right now but to take it. My pussy pulses around his cock, milking it, greedy for more and when he’s empty, he collapses on top of me, panting. He stays like that for a long, long moment, then rolls onto his side, one arm around my middle so my back is to his front, and he’s still inside me. He holds me like this, and I grip the arm that presses me to him, panting and shivering, sweat cooling on our bodies as I try to understand what the fuck just happened between us.
23
Ezekiel
When I pull away from Blue, she makes a sound and leans against me, holding onto the arm I have draped across her stomach, which surprises me. I still and only when her grip loosens do I draw out from inside her. A rush of blood and come spills onto her thighs and mine, stains the once pristine sheets a dark red.
Blue is shivering. I stand, look down at her. I pick up the chain attached to her collar and bind her to the bed then pull the blanket up over her. I don’t say a word. Not yet. I don’t know what to say.
What the fuck was that? I meant to take her, to bend her over and take her and show her who she belonged to. I did not intend on allowing her to come. And I certainly did not intend on kissing her. Holding her.
I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
What the fuck was that?
I grip the edge of the counter and look at myself in the mirror. My face is scratched, my lips are swollen and cut. My shoulders and biceps, too, are decorated with crescent-moon marks left by her fingernails. That I expected. I took her hard. I felt her resistance, and pushed through the barrier and claimed her as mine.