You Beautiful Thing – You (Bad Boys of Bardstown #1) Read Online Saffron A. Kent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Bad Boys of Bardstown Series by Saffron A. Kent
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)
<<<<95105113114115116117125135>199
Advertisement


Because he chooses that moment to thrust inside of me.

And I would’ve fallen face down on the ground with the force, the slight pain of his invasion, if he didn’t have a hand gripping my hips and his arm around my trembling belly. As it is, all I do is scream and shake with his dick throbbing inside of me as he pulls me up, my spine bowing and my head resting on his chest.

“Again,” he growls in my ear, “you didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

He’s pumping inside of me, prolonging my orgasm from before so it’s hard to focus. But I still say, “F-forget what?”

“That my load’s supposed to end up in your womb, not down your throat.”

He finishes that with a violent thrust of his hips and my hands fly back and hold on to his rippling obliques. I don’t know where the flash of clarity is coming from but I do remind him, “B-but I don’t want —”

“You do.” Another jerk of his hips as one of his hands leaves my hip and clutches my throat. “You fucking do want my baby.”

Arching my back, I revel in his control as I insist for no reason at all, “N-no.”

He tightens his hold around my neck, pulls my head back some more so I’m looking at him upside down. Then, “You know what these are for, right?”

He squeezes a part of my body, hips, that makes me jerk against him and moan.

But that’s the only thing I can do.

He doesn’t seem to need an answer from me anyway because he gives it himself, “These. Soft. Meaty. Hips.” Each word is punctuated by the slam of his cock and each slam of his cock is punctuated by my whimpers and moans. “These soft, meaty hips are not only something for me to hold on to when I fuck you like this, and trust me, there’s going to be a lot of times when I pound this pussy from behind like I’m an animal and you’re my bitch in heat.” He squeezes my hip again, making me bite my lip at the pleasure/pain of it. “These are also for when I give you a baby. These are what they call child-bearing hips, Firefly, and you’ve got them in spades. You’ve fucking got them for days and if you think I’m going to let them go to waste, then you better think again, yeah?”

I’m panting and whimpering and my eyes are about to flutter closed but he squeezes my throat, making me pop them right open and I gasp again.

“Eyes on me,” he growls with clenched teeth, “when I’m fucking educating you about birds and bees.”

I shiver at his tone, my pussy spasming over his rod, gushing cum that not only drenches him but also my thighs. And God, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop pumping inside of me and now there are noises. There are squelching noises with every thrust he delivers.

Still I hear him though.

I hear what he says.

“And these,” leaving my hip, he goes up to my breasts and squeezes one, “haven’t you ever wondered why these are so plump and ripe? Why your nipples look like juicy cherries,” he rolls one between his thumb and finger, making me go uh, “and why when you walk, these titties jiggle under your dress as if dying to pop out and find a hungry fucking mouth that can latch on to them.” He squeezes my flesh something fierce at this and goes, “The only hungry mouth you need to worry about right now though, is mine. Just FYI. Don’t get any fucking ideas in your head, yeah? These. Are. Mine.” Again, he punctuates his words with harsh slams of his hips and again, I go uh, uh, uh. “And for the baby that I’m going to give you. Because these are what they call milkmaid tits, Firefly. These are tits made for milking, for suckling, for fucking drinking from, and again, if you think I’m going to let them go to fucking waste, then maybe you’re not as smart as you think are.”

He looks like a beast right now.

Dipped in silvery moonlight, his eyes jet black and his features tight and flushed.

And I can’t help but wonder how it is that I got caught up with someone like him. How it is that he’s got me so in his clutches that I don’t want to leave. That I never ever want to leave. That I always want to live here, in his violent arms and his animal heart.

“And then,” he rasps, his thrusts slowing down a bit, letting me catch my breath, “there’s this pussy.” His hand that was grasping my tit, after smacking it once and making me moan, travels down to my pussy. “Why do you think it’s so tight, baby, huh? Why do you think God gave you such a tiny fucking pussy that’s not only so hard to get in but also to get out of. Why do you think God made it so that not only does your pussy get wet like no one’s business but also so clingy that when you do try to get out, it won’t let you go. It won’t let you leave so you have to stay in. You have to pump, pump, pump into it and before you know or can even think about maybe pulling out and doing the right thing by leaving you unbred, you’re already dumping your load in it. You’re already filling that tight fucking snatch to the brim like a motherfucking teenager who’s never pumped into anything except his fist.”


Advertisement

<<<<95105113114115116117125135>199

Advertisement