Wicked and Bare – Soldiers for Hire Read Online Shayla Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
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“Yes, honey,” he crooned. “Mine. You’re mine. Come for me.”

The moment he quickened his strokes, she bit her lip. Her nails dug into his shoulders. The world as he knew it stopped. She was his light. His reality. His pleasure.

His everything.

In his arms, she seized up. Her pussy clamped down. Her long keen of satisfaction rang in his ears as his blood scorched him with a need that built and built until he couldn’t stop the rush of ecstasy. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The room spun. He anchored himself into her by clamping his teeth in her neck and gripping her thighs with all his might. The bite of pain seemed to send her even higher.

And he lost it.

Something between a growl and a cry escaped his fist-tight throat as he groaned against her skin, thrusting deeper and deeper, banging into her frantically as everything inside him poured into her until he didn’t have a goddamn thing left.

Matt wasn’t sure how much time passed before he finally managed to catch his breath and steady his vision. Madison was looking up at him with tears running from the corners of her eyes above passion-red cheeks.

She swallowed and cupped his face. “I love you. You don’t have to say it. You don’t have to say anything. I just…”

There were a million reasons he shouldn’t confess his feelings to her, not the least of which was distracting her before they headed into whatever torture the Pershings had devised for them in DC. But with his heart thudding and his emotions screaming under his too-sensitive skin, he couldn’t remember a damn one. “I love you, too, Madison. When all this is over, I want you to marry me.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The private jet that had flown them in ridiculously overprivileged luxury from Lafayette to a private air strip outside of DC had landed mere minutes ago, and already Matt didn’t like it.

As Madison emerged onto the air stairs, she became Madison Archer-Pershing. The cotton sundress and flip-flops she’d been wearing when she boarded had been replaced by a chic pantsuit in head-to-toe white, broken only by a trio of silver buttons at each sleeve and a silky silver blouse beneath. She’d exchanged her messy ponytail for loose waves. Her bare face was now made up in a subtle yet smoky look that accentuated her incredibly blue eyes.

With nails coated in fresh red polish, she brushed an imaginary spec of lint from her jacket and followed Ethan down the air stairs gracefully. Her black heels with signature red soles and carefully chosen jewelry made her look like a million dollars—literally. No surprise since she’d spent most of the flight in the private jet’s master retreat transforming herself. Now, everything about her seemed untouchable. That didn’t keep Matt from wanting to fuck her again, especially since she had happily agreed to be his wife last night.

It had been one of the best, most profound nights of his life. They’d talked for hours about the future, about their wedding, their plans, and their kids before he’d taken her in his arms again and sunk deep into her body. He’d drunk in her joy and done his fucking best to cement them together.

Now she might as well be half a planet away.

He settled a steadying hand at her elbow. “You all right?”

“Fine.”

Matt ground his teeth. She didn’t seem fine. He got it; she was wielding her bitch shield. She needed it to deal with the Pershings, and if he peeled away her armor, he’d leave her vulnerable. But he didn’t know this version of Madison at all. That unsettled him.

Ethan shot him a concerned glance over his shoulder. So the little asswipe was cued into Madison’s mood, too. As much as Matt hated the way Garrison kept coming onto his woman, the guy’s concern eased the fears Matt had about her safety. Ethan might dislike him for unexplained reasons, but he would take care of her—or die trying.

He nodded sharply at his fellow operative, urging Ethan forward again. He had Madison’s six.

The DC afternoon was more than “warm,” as the captain had described it. The air felt like a hot, wet blanket, and the necessary head-to-toe black Matt wore to blend into Madison’s background was somewhere between stifling and suffocating. But what worried him most was the sleek limousine waiting for them a mere ten feet away, tinted windows rolled up tight as it idled impatiently.

Madison caught sight of the vehicle and hesitated when the back door opened. Todd Pershing stepped out, a wide smile on his smarmy, Harvard-ass face.

“There’s my wife. I can’t wait to show you exactly how much I’ve missed you.” Every word was sharp as a knife.

Madison’s reply was equally serrated. “I’m eager to show you how much I missed you, too.”

“Why don’t you come here?”

It wasn’t a suggestion.


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