Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
It’s hard to think of anything at all.
Instead of fighting it, I allow myself to fall. I’ve done nothing but think for days. I’m exhausted, frustrated, and heartsore. I thought my days of using sex as a way to purge messy emotions were over, that those more dangerous impulses were carefully caged, but apparently some scars run too deep. When faced with a situation I have no hope of controlling, I slide right back into being that girl who held her aching heart outside her chest, who took a razor blade to it before anyone else had a chance to, just to know that no one else could hurt her worse than she hurt herself.
“Eve.”
“No.” I dig my nails into Azazel’s square jaw. He’s so fucking big in this form. He was already significantly taller than me, but now he has feet over my five foot five inches and his body is built like the strongmen who toss around boulders and trees for prestige. I swallow hard. “I don’t want to hear you say a single thing unless it’s your safe word.” A word we negotiated before my first night with him. It’s a required step for all my clients, even if we’re not engaging in kink. A little fail-safe for my peace of mind—and theirs.
I don’t really care if Azazel has peace of mind right now, but no matter how close my fury flirts with hatred, there are lines that should never be crossed. I won’t respect a single word out of his mouth . . . except that one.
His hands bracket my hips, the strength there enough to make my skin prickle, but he doesn’t attempt to control or maneuver me as I grind down on his cock. His truly, world-endingly huge cock. Historically, I’ve scoffed at the idea that anyone would be too large to fit, but I truly don’t know how he will without ripping me in half.
Good thing I’m in the mood for pain.
I cling to his shoulders, using my thighs to maintain my place, and nip his earlobe. It shouldn’t be so sexy, but there are a lot of things about this that shouldn’t be so sexy. I release his jaw and grip his horn, earning a muffled curse. “You want to play Daddy and take care of me, Azazel?” I lick the shell of a delicately pointed ear. “Then take care of me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. One moment, I’m doing my best to straddle his stomach. The next, he bands his forearm under my ass and uses his free hand to sweep both place settings from the table. The bottle crashes to the stone, sending up the strong scent of wine. A loss, but I’m too busy being laid out on the table as if I’m the feast to worry about it. The glass and a half that I drank makes my body fizzle, but I’m nowhere near drunk. That would be too easy.
Azazel plants a hand next to my hip, towering over me for all that he’s bent nearly in half. I never thought I’d be one to have a size kink—or a hate-sex kink—but I can’t deny the way my pussy pulses in response.
My dress is tangled around my waist, exposing my thong. He makes a sound deliriously close to a true growl and rips it off. It’s such a smooth move that my hips don’t even jerk. With one last look at my face, he goes to his knees.
On his knees and with me sitting on the table, we’re nearly the same height. He yanks down my dress and palms my breasts, but there’s no savoring the movement the way there has been historically. The fury that drives me . . . Well, I can’t tell if it’s present in him or not, only that he’s intense in way that leaves no room for softness.
Good. I want none.
He plants one giant hand on my chest and pushes me down onto my back. Then he dips down and . . . Holy shit, he hooks my thighs over his horns, spreading them wide and exposing me fully.
I open my mouth to command him to do . . . something. Something that will put me back in control. Something that will make me feel less vulnerable.
I never get that chance. He covers my pussy with his mouth and kisses me with a frenzy that makes my eyes roll back in my head. I writhe on instinct, not sure if I’m trying to get away from the slick slide of his long tongue or arch closer. Azazel doesn’t allow me to decide. He palms my ass, lifting my hips even as his horns press my thighs wider.
He thrusts his tongue into my pussy; it’s nearly as thick and long as a cock but able to curl against my G-spot. I cry out, my words garbled with need. “MorePleaseDon’tstop!” I don’t know how he understands me, but he does.