Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I chose to kiss him.
“Sink my cock into your pussy,” he ordered gruffly.
“But your ribs…” I protested.
“My ribs will still hurt when we’re done,” he replied gruffly. “Now ride my cock.”
I was going to argue. I was going to tell him no.
But when he read that on my face, he chose to do the work himself, pulling me down and pushing himself up, until he was once again at my entrance.
I was still just as wet as I’d been when we were outside, but this time, in a much more comfortable position, with good lighting.
“Easton…” I tried again.
But it was a moot point.
Seconds after his name left my lips, he filled me so full of him a scream left my lips.
The burning pain was awash with the pleasure of his cock taking me deep.
It was the most surreal feeling in the world, and I couldn’t tell whether I loved it or hated it.
But before I could think too much on it, he slowly started to swirl my hips, back and forth, back and forth.
I was doing a slow shimmy that started to make the tips of my nipples tingle, and the pit of my stomach start to warm in response.
“Easton…” I whispered, saying his name for an altogether different reason this time.
His hand in my hair tightened, and I found myself staring at the ceiling as his mouth started to press kisses down the length of my exposed throat.
“Next time,” he growled, “we’ll be completely naked, and I’ll have full access to your pussy.”
I shivered in delight. “Next time.”
“And if you ever wear a dress without underwear again…” calling me out.
I grinned. “To be honest, Easton.” I ran my hands over his chest as he continued to press kisses into me. “I took them off halfway through the night. Right before we rode home. They were digging into my flesh something fierce, and I hated the hell out of them.”
He pulled my head back down so I could stare into his eyes as he said, “And where are they?”
I bit my lip.
“Where are they, baby?” He pulled me up by my hips, then forced me back down again.
God, he was so big. So thick. I burned. But in a good way. A delicious, I’m going to be stretched for anyone but him, kind of way.
My entire body jolted with the move.
“They’re in your saddlebag,” I whispered against his lips. “Right next to the sex toy I bought while I was thinking about you.”
He growled low in his throat, then he started to fuck me in earnest.
Well, if you could count him using my body to fuck himself as ‘fucking me.’
Whatever you called it, he did it.
Thoroughly, and well.
My eyes closed, and the sensations started to pile on, higher and higher, until the moment he pinched my nipple.
Seconds later, I was coming.
Which surprised me, because otherwise, I would’ve moved my head so that I wasn’t screaming in Easton’s ear.
He cursed and shook himself, but I was too absorbed in the fantastic waves of my orgasm rolling through me to worry about him.
“Holy crap,” I whispered when my orgasm—goddamn, did Easton give good orgasms—left me. “What was that?”
“That,” he panted, and I wasn’t sure if it was in pain, or due to his orgasm, or possibly both. “That was something I’ve been thinking about doing for a very long time.”
I pulled back so that I could look into his eyes.
There was pain there. But also wonder. And satisfaction.
“How long?” I asked.
He licked his lips. “Since that piece of shit’s file was put on my desk, and your picture was paperclipped to it.”
I jolted at the words.
“Really?” I asked. “You’ve wanted me based on a picture?”
He reluctantly pulled me off of him, then flipped me so that I was on the couch.
I laughed at the abrupt move, but he apologized anyway. “Sorry, my strength seems to have gone with my orgasm.”
I smirked at him as I rolled upward, watching as he stood on shaky legs and pulled the condom off as he moved.
He went to the kitchen trash and threw it away before turning back to me and saying, “Pretty much. I started to pour through that case. Found every single thing that I could find on him, since the FBI was going to make a deal. If he was going to make a deal and get off scot free, I was going to find all the easy shit to find, so he would have to give us something worthwhile. Something that would make him not going to prison worth it.”
I looked down at my hands. “I’m glad he went missing. I’m glad he’s not living that cushy life.”
He moved again so that he was leaning over the back of the couch staring directly at me.
“He’s not.”
With those words, I had my confirmation.
The question was… what should I do with them?