Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Ugh,” he snarled, his focus never leaving where his cock was, as if he couldn't stand to look away.
The position had him hitting parts of me I didn't even know existed, secret parts that had me crying out. I found myself curling my nails into his flesh, moaning because there was only one word for what was happening right now.
Claiming.
He slammed his cock inside me so hard I felt the bed rock back and forth, the headboard slamming against the wall.
“I’ll never get enough.” His breath moved along the arch of my throat, and he ran his teeth and tongue over my neck, down my collarbone, and stopped at one of my breasts. I felt shivers racing along every inch of me. I felt hypersensitive.
Malkolm was almost languid in his motions, in the way he bit and licked at my flesh, in the way he moved inside me. But he never stopped tormenting me in the best of ways. He kept me right on the precipice of climaxing.
My pussy clenched around him, and he gritted out, “Christ.”
Then he lost it and really started fucking me.
Our identical, panting breaths filled the room, surrounding me. I arched my back, my breasts thrust out, and closed my eyes.
“God,” he groaned, and I swore I saw—felt—his muscles straining even more, becoming even more pronounced. “Fucking hell, baby.” He slammed into me, pressing his body against the bundle of nerves at the top of my pussy, my clit throbbing, and sending sensations spiraling through me. “Christ.”
I gasped, and it was as if the sound was an accelerant to him, because a second later, he slammed his mouth on mine. But he kept fucking me, kept thrusting against me, giving me more, his movements almost frantic.
On the third time, he buried himself all the way inside me, both of us moaning at the intensity, my eyes wide as sparks of pleasure stole my breath. His huge body shook, and the sound of his pleasure, of him grunting and groaning, had my own orgasm rising higher.
“Mine,” he roared out as he filled me up, and God did he ever. I felt him coming in me, those hot, thick jets of his seed filling me to the brim.
The pleasure was never-ending. And all I could do was clutch him, hold on as he wrung every ounce of ecstasy from me. And when I grew too sensitive, only then did his body still atop mine. He kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, my closed eyelids, and then moved off me.
I felt the coldness of the air. I shivered, but he was pulling me close to his chest a second later, holding me tight, keeping me warm. He used his big, muscular body to protect me, to keep me warm, to make me feel like I was the only woman in the world for him.
“You are,” he murmured, his voice thick from what we’d just done, husky and sleep-filled. I wasn’t even embarrassed I'd said that out loud. I did want to be his, only his, and knowing he wanted that too had this tingling warmth surrounding me.
Our chests were pressed together, my head right over his heart. I felt the steady, lulling beat of it and felt a small smile tug my lips. I tilted my head back and looked up at him, and I was shocked to see he already watched me, this possessive gleam in his eyes.
His hands tightened around me, and he leaned down and kissed me soundly on the lips.
“I meant it when I said I wasn’t letting you go, that you’re mine.”
I realized, as I looked into his eyes after he pulled back, that all the waiting, all the loneliness, was worth it. I felt like all of it was worth it. Because right here, right now, I was finally with the man I loved. And I did love him. Because feeling like this for another human couldn’t be chalked up to desire or lust. It was more of a soul-deep connection that might not make sense to anyone else, but to me—to us—it was perfect.
And I was ready to see what lay ahead of us. I was ready to see how intricate our futures would be with each other in our lives.
9
Flora
Two months later
I couldn’t help but smile as I sat on the couch in Malkolm’s living room and watched as he attempted to make me dinner. I was twisted around on the cushions, one arm slung over the back, the smile I was trying to suppress still making an appearance.
Over the last two months, I felt myself growing more comfortable with Malkolm and how fast our relationship had progressed. I loved him. He loved me. And everything we did with each other, experienced with each other, opened my eyes that good things did come to those who waited.