Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Eventually, his lashes lowered, concealing the predatory glow in his eyes. She found relief in that, until his fingers strummed against her thigh, tightening and loosening, as if he were trying to hide the shaking. He used to do that when they were teenagers, quaking and twitching his hands when he was overly excited and trying not to come.
Her chest constricted. He was a rancid poison, injecting himself into her system. Circulating through her blood. Breaking her down and rotting her from the inside out.
But the poison thinned as she climbed. He floated her up and halfway down again. The smell of his rotten intent still lingered, but underneath, she tasted ecstasy. Because he’d brought her to the cliff, and though she fought against the fall, his tongue was too talented, knew her body too well, and he pushed her over.
She moaned as blissful shocks burst across her nerve endings, spreading outward, trembling her legs, and wiping her mind. She spun through a vortex of unimaginable pleasure where she didn’t need air or legs or wings, because he was there, catching her, holding her, and carrying her through the haze. He was with her, protecting. Mine.
Her arms twisted in the ropes as she clung to the lingering sensations, quivering and gasping to catch her breath.
When she finally came down, the weight of what just happened pressed against her chest.
He’d made her come, and it left her feeling more alive than she’d ever felt in her life.
And raw. So fucking raw it hurt in places she couldn’t identify or reach.
Why hadn’t he just raped her without all the foreplay and eye contact? He could’ve fucked her, gotten off on whatever sick shit he was into, then left her the fuck alone to lick her wounds. She could survive physical pain. But this…this godawful ache inside her? She didn’t even know where to start.
“How long has it been?” He kissed the hood of her clit and leaned up on his elbows.
“How long for what?” she snapped.
“Since someone ate your pussy.”
“A week ago.” She considered leaving it at that, but since he wanted to stick his fucking nose in her business… “Larry McGregor had skills.”
“What?” he bellowed and shot up off the bed, his face contorted and fiery red. He swung an arm out and sent the lamp crashing to the floor, spinning the glowing light through the room. “You fucked that worthless son of a bitch?”
“No.” Heart thundering, she slammed her legs together and scooted toward the headboard. “I let him go down on me so I could—” Shit. She’d said too much.
“So you could put him in a chokehold,” he said, voice cold and deadly calm. “Same thing you just tried on me.”
Technically, it was a different chokehold, but she wasn’t about to point that out.
He stood with his back to her, the brawn of his ass hard and flexed like a gladiator preparing for battle. She’d seen his nude body so many times, but that was before. This body was so much bigger, his thighs cut and dusted with dark hair, his waist narrow and widening into defined shoulders, and his spine straight and confident.
He was power and danger and persuasion, and she was a quivering blob tied to his bed.
Scrubbing a hand over his head, he dragged it down his face, his profile angled downward as he glared at the glowing exposed bulb on the broken lamp. The heave of his back slowed, and he seemed to be reigning in his temper.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and jutting upward as he shifted his gaze to her. “When was the last time you had sex?”
She hesitated. Did the truth really matter? Would it reveal a weakness or some hidden psychological condition he could use against her? She didn’t think so. “Four years ago.”
“Four—” He choked, his head tilting and expression perplexed.
No, not perplexed. Possessive.
Maybe she should’ve lied.
He crawled toward her with a feral glint in his eyes. She tucked her legs close to her body, but he caught her ankles and dragged her down the mattress on her back.
“Four years ago,” he said quietly and wedged his hips between her thighs.
The last time she’d felt his weight on her, he’d been on the thin side of sexy, but now he was stacked with compact muscle, his shoulders beautifully sculptured, and his torso a rippling slab of intimidation. It was like being pinned by a fallen tree. With eight-pack abs.
With a hand in her hair, his other reached down to cup her pussy. His mouth parted with the acceleration of his breaths as he sank two fingers in, teasing and tormenting.
“What about you?” Her voice shivered as she tried to block out the warmth and pressure of his hand.
“I’ll tell you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “But not right now.”