Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It’s a rule I never meant to break, but the night our paths collide, I have no idea who Weaver is.
He’s just a drop-dead gorgeous man with no qualms about sleeping with a virgin. By the time I realize he’s also the man who destroyed my father, I’ve spent the hottest night of my life on his yacht.
I’m ashamed of what I’ve done.
I’m even more ashamed that I want to do it again…
I don’t care about our age gap or that he’ll be leaving town in a few weeks. This war between our families isn’t mine to fight, and my father hasn’t been there for me in a long time.
But Weaver is. He’s there for me when I need him most, proving he doesn’t have ice water flowing through his veins.
I’m falling for this forbidden man hard and fast…and then he gives me proof that my father was right all along.
Can our love survive Weaver’s dark side?
Or will he ruin me the way he ruined the people I once loved?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
prologue
His fist in my hair, his lips on my neck, his rough voice whispering—“You’re mine. This is where you belong. With me. Always.”—is the stuff of my most erotic daydreams.
In the past week, my ice-cold billionaire has made all those dreams come true.
He’s also set off a bomb in the middle of my life.
Nothing will ever be the same, even if I walk out of this room right now and never set eyes on him again. I can’t go back, and I have no idea how to move forward.
It’s terrifying, and a part of me wishes I’d never met Weaver Tripp.
The other part clings to his shoulders as he drags his teeth over my nipple and begs him never to stop, never to let me go.
“Never,” he promises, ripping my pants down my legs with one hand as he continues to torture my electrified skin with his mouth.
It’s torture, what he does to me, the way he makes me burn.
The sweetest torture I’ve ever known…
“That’s my girl,” he says, groaning as he slides his hand down the front of my panties. “So wet for me. I love feeling you soaked and ready for me to fuck you, baby. I love it so fucking much.”
I whimper, lifting my hips to welcome the invasion of his thick fingers driving inside me. He hasn’t even touched my clit yet, but I’m already so close it feels like I’m being swept up in a tornado, carried higher and higher into a churning funnel cloud of desire.
And like with an actual tornado, there’s a serious chance I won’t survive giving myself to this man again.
He’s a danger to my family and possibly the most gifted liar I’ve ever met.
“I love you, Sully,” he says, shoving his own pants and boxer briefs down far enough to bare his erection. I feel his cock feverish against my thigh and fresh heat rushes between my legs. “I’m always going to love you.”
Except that.
That isn’t a lie.
That’s the truth. I can hear it in his voice, feel it in the way his hand trembles as it smooths down the back of my thigh.
Before I can respond, he shoves my knee up toward my ribs and then he’s inside me, making me gasp as he fills me—deep and fast. I moan at the hint of pain that swiftly transforms to pleasure as he rides me hard, staking his claim in a way he never has before.
This man has spanked me and restrained me and whispered filthy, forbidden things into my ear, but he’s never taken me like this.
Like he can’t get close enough…
Like he’s terrified that this will be the last time…
“Mine, you’re mine,” he rasps as he captures my uninjured wrist, pinning it to the hard floor above my head. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Can’t you feel it? This is right. This is what we should be fighting for.”
I arch my back, straining against his hold, knowing he won’t let me escape. He’ll bruise me first, because he knows this is how I like it. Using every bit of my strength to fight him as he fucks me turns me on like nothing I had the guts to imagine before Weaver.
He’s changed me, ruined me, liberated me.
He’s an anchor dragging me down to the bottom of the sea and the port in the storm I’ve been aching for my entire life.
He’s my devil and my savior and when he releases my wrist long enough to slap the side of my ass hard enough to send a shock wave through my nervous system, I come like the shameless creature I am.
I come screaming his name and crying out for mercy, but I should know better.
Mercy is in short supply these days.
And Weaver isn’t a man known for sparing anyone—his enemies, his friends, or anything in between.
one
One week earlier…
Gertrude “Sully” Sullivan
A woman on the verge of
making some very risky
decisions…
This is stupid.
I shouldn’t be here, and I certainly shouldn’t have sent that text…
I don’t love Mark Tripp.
I don’t even like Mark that much.
Yes, making out with him was fun, but our “situation” ended when the September chill set in. Getting handsy behind the dock house or in some secluded beach cove after work wasn’t nearly as much fun when the temperature was barely above freezing. And we didn’t have anywhere to go to hook up indoors without being found out.
Mark lives with his two cousins—both Tripps who loathe the Sullivan clan for “stirring up trouble” at dock meetings for the past fifty years. If he’d brought me to his place, he would have been labeled the black sheep of the family.
As for the Sullivan clan?
My grandfather hates Rodger Tripp, Mark’s father and the Tripp patriarch, with the passion of a thousand giant lobster claws, snapping closed all at once.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard tales of the greedy, selfish Tripps, the family that created an illegal fishing empire in our town by bending the rules and paying off crooked politicians. According to Gramps, the Tripps are trying to squeeze out and destroy anyone who doesn’t share their last name.