Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
But nothing about this was half-ass. The swirling, sucking motion of her lips and tongue delivered the perfect pressure and rhythm, just the right amount of teasing and manipulation to drive him out of his fucking mind.
He couldn’t stop his hands from holding her in place as he fucked hard and deep into her throat. She swallowed through it without gagging, but after a few breathless seconds, she smacked her palms on his abs and pushed away.
Leaning up, she got in his face and growled. “I was trained how to do this by a scary, cold as fuck sadist.” She wrapped a hand around his length, torturing him with diabolical strokes. “I want to do it my way, for me, and I don’t need your damn guidance.”
“Christ, you’re fucking fierce.” He was so goddamn hard his dick felt like cement beneath the pressure, like any moment he might crack in the vigorous vise of her hand.
“I’ve never done this without…” Her brows furrowed. “Without giving my consent.” She edged back and lowered her head, her gaze locked on his. “Let me do it.”
“Okay.” He relaxed into the mattress, his head tipped back against the headboard and his hands at his sides. “Do it. Suck me.”
She did. She sucked him until every nerve in his body sparked and sizzled with need. The rolling sweep of her tongue brought him back from the dead. The suction of her lips banished the nightmares, and her tear-stained cheeks filled him with an overpowering sense of responsibility.
His love for her resembled a blade, a source of pain, but vital. He would always protect her, however she needed him, even when he was the cause of her suffering.
Their relationship was unconventional, dark in nature, almost unworldly. Although she resented it, he knew she cherished it just as deeply.
He felt it in the veneration of licks along his cock, heard it in the emotion-soaked panting of her breaths, and saw it in the sodden depths of her watchful eyes.
She wasn’t just giving him a blow job. She was surrendering pieces of herself. Tiny, rare, invaluable pieces of her soul.
Possessiveness growled in his throat, and his muscles clenched with desire. He wanted to erase her past and be her forever. He wanted to disintegrate everything from her life until he was the only thing she needed to breathe.
He wanted her to love him.
As her mouth moved along his shaft and her gaze clung to his, he could almost pretend she was with him willingly, that she wasn’t locked in his penthouse with twenty guards preventing her escape.
Sucking in air, he swallowed the urge to flip her over, sink into her heat, and pound home the message that she belonged to him.
Instead, he simply let go. He let her set the torturous pace, let her add a teasing nip here and there, and let her decide when to send him over.
The moment she took him to the back of her throat and kneaded his balls in the cup of her hand, she knew she had him.
He surrendered, gasping for breath, groaning incoherently, and coming for the woman he wanted to fuck for the rest of his undeserving life.
She swallowed him down, every single drop, and by the time her sexy lips slid free, he only vaguely remembered how he got there.
“Hostia puta.” His lungs stuck together, gasping for oxygen. “It’s never been that perfect.”
“Well, you have no recent comparisons. It’s been a while since someone gave you head, right?”
“Twelve years.” He stared at her mouth, obsessed with every little twitch within those lush arches.
“I like that.” She crawled up his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. “I like that there hasn’t been anyone since your wife. But it also feels intimidating, like her shadow is constantly hanging over me. No matter what I do, I’ll never be her in your eyes and—”
“Stop.” He crushed her close, forging them together as her fragile truths winged through his soul. “I haven’t thought about her nor will I ever think about her when I’m with you. My past is where it belongs. I don’t want it or her, not even a little. I want you.”
The fact that she was dwelling on this at all was progress. Huge fucking strides in the right direction. If she didn’t care about him, she wouldn’t have brought up his sexual history, marriage, or any insecurities about it.
She was jealous, and she hated him. He was possessive, and he loved her. Together, they were a combustion of extreme emotion that burned without boundaries or expiration.
Didn’t matter how far he took her or how hard she fought, she was with him, kicking and kissing, punching and fucking, with her heart engaged and her mind challenging him as nothing less than his equal.
He ran his fingers down her side, veered around her hip, and dipped into the valley between the firm globes of her ass.