Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
No, you need to stop this. But there’s no stopping it, no matter how much I want to. This is how it was always going to be. He was always going to hunt me down and claim me again, and I was always going to let him because I am weak when it comes to Callum Torrio.
“Fuck, I knew it.” He strokes the crotch of my panties while a knowing smile spreads across his smug face. “Soaked. Fucking drenched. You only think you know what you want because you’re afraid of what it means if you give in. Your pretty pussy knows better. It wants me. It weeps for me, doesn’t it?”
I hate him for this, but I swear to god I’ll kill him if he stops.
Instead of answering him, I let out a grunt.
“Deny me, Bianca, deny what your heart wants. Fight me if you must, but we both know that nothing else you say matters once I’m deep inside you. You’re a whore for my cock and how it makes you feel.” He presses down, and stars twinkle behind my eyelids at the sweet, tantalizing pressure.
“You shouldn’t,” I whisper, even though my heart’s racing and my arousal paints the insides of my thighs. It’s embarrassing how turned-on by this man I am. “I can’t… it’s wrong.”
“Are you sure you want me to stop?” I hold my breath while he works his fingers under the soaked fabric. His movements don’t stop, and I don’t know if I could get the words out if I tried. “Scream, my little bird. Somebody in the garage will hear you. Scream, fight, rock the car back and forth.” While he speaks, he runs a finger along my seam. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.” I gasp when he slips the tip between my folds. His touch is lazy, yet still sends sparks of pleasure down my spine. “If you truly wanted this to end right now, all you’d have to do is scream and prove to me you don’t want this.”
Bastard. Evil fucking bastard.
Instead of telling him no, and cussing him out, I do the one thing I shouldn’t. I crack down the middle and crumble into a million tiny pieces of shame as I tilt my hips and invite him to go deeper.
“Good girl. I didn’t think so.”
My cheeks burn shamefully even as the heat he’s stirring in my core rivals that. That’s what I care about most when I hike my skirt up to my waist to spread my legs wider. Being in the back seat is awkward, but I prop a foot on the center console to make room for his broad body, which he settles between my thighs.
“There it is,” he mutters an instant before entering me with two thick fingers. “Beautiful. I want to ruin you. Destroy your pretty pussy.” I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning. The pleasure ripples through my core, and he scissors his fingers, touching every spot perfectly. “There’s what I’ve been missing. This pussy. My pussy. So tight, and sweet. Fuck I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about fucking you in the last forty-eight hours. The thought of never touching you again makes me feral.”
I know he doesn’t mean it. He’s only trying to prove a point. That I’m helpless against him, and I’ll let him say and do anything he wants so long as he continues his assault on my body. Fucking me with his fingers, he uses his thumb to roll over my clit. It’s only sex. Nothing more, I remind myself as he sets my entire body on fire. Flames lick the edges of my skin, promising to turn me to ash.
“Fuck my fingers,” he growls against my neck, running his tongue over my throat. His teeth press against my flesh, and he bites against my thundering pulse just as he inserts a third digit. He pounds into me, his knuckles against my tender flesh.
The girth of his fingers stretches me, and while there’s a slight bite of pain, it’s not enough for me to beg him to stop. The opposite happens. I start to pant. Harder. Faster. His thick muscled arm is a blur as he fucks me faster and harder with his fingers. He’s preparing me for his massive cock, and I wither against the door, consumed and at his mercy. “Fuck yourself on them. Give your pussy what it wants.”
“Oh, fuck…” I can’t help it. Not when he talks that way. Not when it feels so good. The car rocks back and forth while I ride his hand, grunting and gasping. Sweat beads against my forehead, and I gasp. My hand wraps around his wrist, my nails sinking deep into his skin. I ride his fingers wishing it was his cock.
I need this. I need to let go of everything I’ve kept bottled up inside me. The fear and confusion, the distrust and guilt. I put all of it into fucking his fingers the way he orders, because in the end I’m always going to follow his command. I don’t have a choice. He owns me.