Hemlock (Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter #1) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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I squeeze my hands into fists, resisting the urge to tangle them in her wet hair until the drops of wetness on her cheeks are tears rather than water from her shower. One of her hands presses against my thigh, fingernails digging into my skin, while the other grips the base of my shaft, stroking the parts her mouth can't reach.

I nearly come on her face when she pulls back for a second, unconcerned with the spit that dribbles from her chin. She's messy, sloppy while sucking my dick, and I'm in fucking bliss watching the way her pupils dilate as if she's enjoying this just as much as I am.

I want her like this every fucking day, on her knees, looking up at me with flushed cheeks as my cock disappears down her throat.

Three more dips of her head, mouth working my shaft and I fucking swear I'm going to blow my load down her pretty little throat.

But I don't get to wish and hope for things like that, and I'm a fool for even letting those types of thoughts enter my head. She has too much power right now, despite being on her knees.

I shift my hips back, needing to regain authority over this fucking situation. She nearly falls forward, barely catching herself on her hands before face-planting on the bathroom floor. Her eyes narrow when she looks back up at me, but I don't offer her an apology.

I growl my disapproval when she reaches up to wipe the spit from her chin. "Don't."

Instead of listening to me, she narrows her eyes and wipes it anyway.

I inch forward again, this time grabbing the back of her head and forcing her mouth back down my cock until I’m satisfied with the way the spit dribbles down the underside of my balls, telling me that her face should be just as messy.

When I allow her to pull back once again, she wipes the spit away a second time.

I drop my eyes further, seeing her arousal glistening from the tender slit between her thighs.

"You're fucking filthy," I hiss, realizing just how much my show of force turns her on.

She doesn't deny my observation, but then again, how could she? I don't know that I've ever seen a woman so turned on before in my life, and it thrills the shit out of me. Fear turns me on, but then it usually leaves me feeling like I've done something wrong, like the lovers I've had in the past only fucked me because they were scared of what would happen to them if they turned me down. It always left me feeling like one of the pieces of shit traffickers I took much pleasure in slicing up.

Zara is different. I'm sure I can push the boundaries and scare her some, but she wants exactly what I have to offer. There's no doubt in her eyes when she looks up at me with my cock cutting off her airway. If anything, she's going to use the only breath I allow to beg for more.

I grind my teeth when my balls pull up in warning, using a handful of her hair to pull her mouth from my cock.

Instead of forcing her mouth back down my shaft, I urge her to stand, her hand covering mine when I lift her by her hair.

"You fucking love being mistreated," I growl, keeping her at a distance when her eyes drop to my mouth.

I'm down for a lot of shit, but letting this woman kiss me isn't on the list. The intimacy of that isn't something I've ever been able to handle. It gives her too much power, and I'll never allow it.

Instead of my pulse pounding the way hers is in the hollow of her neck, calmness, and peace come over me. I stare at her, wondering how she's the only person in the world that makes that sense of calm wash over me. It feels as if it's a way to manipulate me. It's as if she has a power I'm not willing to give anyone.

I walk from the room, pulling my shirt over my head as I turn left toward her bedroom rather than right toward the front door like I should be.

Leaving feels more like defeat, and I opt to stay and regain my control.

I pull my wallet from my back pocket as I kick my boots off, shoving down my unzipped jeans and kicking them away.

"Hard no," she snaps.

I turn to face her, condom in hand, to find her scrunching her nose at the sight of my socks.

"I'll choke on your cock all night long, but you are not fucking me while wearing socks."

I stare down at the white socks, wondering when something so innocuous transitioned into something that could put a stop to this night.


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