Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Falling forward, I nestle my face into the crook of his neck. “But then you’d have to share me?” Warmth feathers my clit, igniting a firestorm of desire that burns roguishly through my veins.
My teeth catch the familiar scent of his flesh when I bury my cries into the crook of his neck.
“Do you want murder or dick?” His fingers bruise my hips when he forces my weight down and I bite into his jaw to stop the scream from escaping. “Gonna be both in a second.”
With an emptiness only he can exude, his pupils swell and the muscles on either side of his jaw bounce. He’s mad. Good. He can stay mad. This isn’t about him—it’s about me. I need this.
With the purpose of not touching me clear as day, he spreads his palm over my lower back without messing with my pace while keeping the other to his side.
He leans back lazily, holding my eyes hostage.
This. Is. For. Me. Because if I start doing things for him, then I’ve already lost.
My hips mark their space with intention and a subtle growl vibrates from his chest as his cock disappears inside my body with slow yet hungry thrusts.
The battle of control between what he wants and what he needs continues by the torture of his restraint. That’s where he and I are different. I can take what I want without needing anything.
He wants everything.
Burying my fingers into the side of his neck, I taste the edge of his lips.
His body tenses. So close to pushing him over the edge.
With the weight of vengeance between us, my grip around his cock tightens and my body convulses when he pulses inside of me.
My own restraint wavers when I drive my hips up, allowing the metal of his piercing to carve his name into the walls of my pussy.
A whimper claws its way up my throat as my body convulses around him and suddenly, I don’t want us to be in public.
His mouth catches my cries, sucking my bottom lip into his by the curve of his tongue. “Yeah, fuck, I’m done.” Using the weight of his arms to hold me in place, his body swallows mine as his hips drive into me with lazy thrusts.
Finally.
Flames spread over my skin as if sweating gasoline, and the back of my eyes prickle when the varnish of his body slaps against mine.
The steel square of his Zippo catches my attention as he slips a familiar ring over his finger.
His eyes land on mine and I pause mid-ride. All the boys have one, gifted down from the Fathers.
“Still wanna play a game, Halo?” A flame burns between us. “What about now?” The WM etched into the metal glows a brilliant shade of orange. With time lost around us and the ache in my body persistent for no one but him, I’m pretty sure I’d do anything right now.
His tongue dampens his lip. “Come here.”
The simplicity of his command ravages through my body and lures me to his mouth. Our kisses spin a web of dominance and power, and the more I allow his pierced tongue to lick mine, the faster my heart pounds.
Refusing to release each other, he presses his palm against my lower back with a growl that sounds more animal and less human.
Grabbing at the corded muscles in his neck, the angry tip of his cock teases me to the edge of insanity. “I can’t—I can’t. Can we go?”
With the release of our lips, his attention is back on his ring, burning the initials once more. The hunger for my release is relentless, even when the hand that’s holding the ring slowly disappears between us.
Knotting my fingers together at the back of his neck, I peer up at him from damp lashes as his intention becomes clear the closer he gets.
The flesh of my pussy sizzles with blinding pain as his other hand slams against my mouth to muffle my cries. His fingers mark my hips as the weeping swelter of my fresh wound lingers.
His pace picks up as he drives his cock into me with a rare kind of carnality that I never knew existed. Even with tears pricking my eyes, it does nothing to calm the crazed obsession to have him fuck me until it hurts.
And it hurts already.
“Give it. To me.” His hand lands on the back of my neck, forcing my attention.
“I—" My lips brush his. “—want it to hurt.”
He groans.
A trigger only he can reach is flipped when the weight of my surrender slides over his cock. Watching him come undone shouldn’t make me feel the way it does. Like his fist buried in my chest and not knowing if he’s there to mend, or tear me apart.
It’s the way sin stains cheekbones that are clearly carved by gods.