Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
So ready, gripping like a girl possessed.
Her inner walls suck my fingers while her whimpers make me frantic.
“Micah,” she begs. “Micah, please!”
One more goddamned minute.
I let her suffer just a moment longer.
I’m torturing myself too when I’m so hard I could fucking die, and the feel of her silky skin against me is torture.
Still, I hold off on biting down harder, harder, even as I plunge my fingers in and out, feeling her tighten and grip me so desperately, chasing that shivering rush of her breaths that means she’s so close to—
There!
I stop right before she unravels, right as she gives me the roughest whimper, begging to let go.
“Not yet, woman,” I growl. “Hold the fuck on.”
I slip my fingers out of her with one last sweep of my thumb over her clit, then replace my fingers with my cock.
Hands under her thighs, spreading her open, I lift her up.
Then I plunge down, mounting her with a single hard thrust, wild and rough and holding nothing back.
I kiss her just as brutally until our lips taste like bruises and our bodies crash together.
Fuck, I can’t hold back.
Clutching her closer, I take her hard, plunging into tight depths that envelop me in the burning pleasure of her flesh.
Pain slices down my back—her nails.
She claws at me, just as wild as I am, rising up to meet me.
This frantic pace turns us bestial, two animals fighting to find out who comes first.
We clutch our bodies, rolling, thrusting, building to a tortured frenzy.
The movement feels like sword thrusts, and I only crave more violence.
More!
My hips slam hers faster, harder, chasing something always out of reach, pulling her with me, taking us both higher—no.
Taking us low.
Down into the nameless darkness, the strangest heat, the thrill that shouldn’t be right, yet can’t be wrong when we’re in this together.
She’s flushed scarlet with passion.
Her eyes are dazed and nearly closed, yet there’s no doubt there. No fear.
Only raw pleasure and sheer surrender to the end.
And when the end comes, it’s a fucking cataclysm.
Volcanic.
A finish made from vicious lashes, dragging me down in jolting rushes as I bury my cock so deep, so deep, and fucking fill her.
I come so hard my vision blurs.
I mark her inside the same way I did to her skin, making sure she feels me pouring into her and painting her with come.
Her greedy pussy wrings every drop from my balls.
She takes it with a moan, wrapped around me, still begging even as I see that beautiful instant when she collapses.
I feel it as her legs lock around me, milking every last shiver from my body, torturing me and dragging a groan from my throat.
Together, we’re two monsters in heat, hell-bent on sating our lusts.
Lust.
Is that still what this is?
The thought barely has a chance to settle before she pulls me down with another needy kiss.
Then the last screaming wave of pleasure roars over me and robs my senses blind.
“So, I’ve made a decision,” Talia says as she sprawls on top of me lazily. “I’m going to need more high-necked shirts.”
I’ve barely left the haze of animalistic sex and I’m laughing. What the hell is going on?
I don’t know what I expected after that.
Tension.
Silence.
Regret.
Maybe for her to be horrified that we were capable of being so crazy, so violent. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Usually, when it happens, I gladly take the blame—like I brought out something in her that she couldn’t believe was actually part of her, the ability to enjoy being hurt that way, so it must be something I did to corrupt her.
With Talia, who’s barely just lost her virginity, I should have taken more time.
Should’ve built up to this and eased her into it.
It would’ve served me right if she’d called me an animal and pushed me away from her.
Instead of flopping bonelessly against me, rubbing her cheek to my chest like a contented cat, teasing me about high-necked shirts.
In the firelight, she’s all amber and cream. The flickering flames wash over her naked body and make her skin glow in soft contours before plunging down into gold-lit shadows that accent her like a piece of fine art.
The marks I’ve left behind, they’re dark reddish-purple bruises. Mostly in the shape of my teeth where I branded her.
She shivers in my arms.
I maneuver us so we’re lying on her sleeping bag, then stretch one arm out to grab my own and drag it over us like a makeshift blanket. I feel like I should fish out the little first aid kit and swab over her bites with a little antibiotic salve just to be safe.
Soon.
Let me savor this first.
Talia makes a happy sound, nosing at my shoulder.
“Better?” I ask.
“Mm, yeah. Just cold,” she answers, folding her arms on my chest and propping her chin on them, watching me with her eyes twinkling.