Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Lauren had been right when she’d said Andrés needed me to be good for him. He needed my submission, my willing surrender to his control. He needed to see me restrained, because it reassured him that I couldn’t leave him. He needed to see me cry, because he couldn’t shed the tears himself. He wanted to care for me, but more than that, he craved my devotion in return.
Cupping his scarred cheek in my hand, I leaned up into him and lightly pressed my lips to his. For a moment, his mouth was tense beneath mine; a hard, anguished slash. Then he groaned, a long sound of pained release, and he opened for me. His fingers threaded in my hair, pulling me closer as his tongue swept into my mouth, devouring me like a starving man.
Hunger rose within me, more than physical need. I craved his closeness, skin-to-skin. He’d just dropped so many barriers between us, letting me see into his tormented soul. I wanted to offer him something in return, something I’d never offered to anyone.
But I didn’t want to beg. I didn’t want to prostrate myself before him and cheapen our connection to nothing more than his victory and my subjugation. I wanted him. All of him, good and bad, ugly and beautiful. And I’d give myself to him, willingly, eagerly.
My hands went to his shirt, tearing at the buttons in my haste to feel his hard chest, the thick ridges of the scars that were physical marks of his inner pain. I wanted to touch them, to explore every lash that had been inflicted on his soul and heal them.
He growled against my mouth, kissing me harder as he shrugged out of his shirt and helped me remove the rest of his clothes. When we were both naked, he gripped my waist and guided me down onto the bed, his weight settling over me. His hard cock pressed against my inner thigh, straining toward my virgin channel.
“I want you, Andrés,” I gasped when he broke our kiss so we could both draw in much-needed air. “Don’t make me beg. I want to give this to you. I want to give myself to you.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, so we exchanged each ragged breath. “You don’t have to beg, sirenita. You just have to say yes. I need to know that you want me. Let me in.”
The tears that spilled from my eyes welled up from a place deep inside as emotion flooded free. “Yes,” I whispered. “Please, Andrés.”
I begged because I chose to. Because he didn’t demand my surrender. I gave it willingly.
“Samantha,” he groaned my name and lined up with my slick opening. I was wet and ready for him, my core throbbing with need. “Do you feel what you do to me? You are so perfect.”
His swollen cockhead pressed at my entrance, parting my pussy lips as he eased inside. I whimpered at the burning stretch of him pushing in, but he didn’t stop at the sound of my discomfort. He stroked my cheek with one hand and reached between us with the other, playing with my nipples, giving me the little bites of pain that always drove me wild. My whimper turned to a high whine, and my inner muscles relaxed as my arousal grew, easing his progress as he penetrated me slowly.
Once he was fully seated inside me, he paused. My core contracted, struggling between pushing him out and welcoming him in. His jaw was clenched, his scar drawn deep and fierce. But the sight didn’t scare me. I touched the mark again, tracing the furrow across his handsome face. He closed his eyes, a shiver running through his entire body as his cock jerked inside me.
He withdrew slowly, using aching care with my untried body. His cockhead dragged across my g-spot, and pleasure lit up my system, burning away the discomfort. My core heated and relaxed, opening for him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and dug my heels into his sculpted ass, pulling him back inside me.
A rumbling shout left his lips at my bold movement, and he grasped my wrists, pinning them over my head with one hand while his other played with my breasts more harshly. He pinched and pulled at my nipples. Each little hit of pain went straight to my pussy, making it flutter around him.
He began to move, pumping his hips faster and harder as he clung to his control by a thread. I knew he was holding back so he wouldn’t hurt me, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t care if it hurt. I welcomed the burn of his huge cock filling and stretching me. It made me hyperaware of our intense connection, bound together by pleasure and pain. This was how it was meant to be between us: our bond so tight that it was nearly too much to bear.