Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
She cries out in frustration when I pull out of her abruptly, but her eyes widen when I roughly flip her to her stomach. She scrambles to her knees, just as my hand comes around her throat, and I shove in from behind until my hips clap her ass.
Her entire body shudders against me.
“This is my least favorite position,” she tells me with a little defiance now that she’s woken up well enough.
Leaning down to her ear, I nip the side of her neck, even as I fuck her the way I want to.
With her on her hands and knees in front of me, her neck in my hand, and her life at my mercy.
In spite of her protests, she makes another muffled sound, pressing her face into the pillow as her entire body shudders and she clenches around me even harder.
Over and fucking over.
Just as her body goes limp, painfully spiked pleasure drills through my body, all my muscles bunching with the serrated-edge bliss.
My chest slides over her back, both of us drenched by this point, and she trembles against me as she tries to catch her breath, my weight starting to press down on her as my hips involuntarily jerk one last time against her.
Fucking hell. I could live like this. Coming home to fuck her any time I like.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to take you away from me again,” I whisper against her ear.
She shakes her head, turning it to the side as she pants for air, while I keep her caged in underneath me. “That’s not good pillow talk,” she says on a sigh.
Dragging my lips over her shoulder, I lace our fingers together, holding her to me as I get comfortable, dropping to the side to get the bulk of my weight off her back.
She inhales a deeper breath, but doesn’t make any attempt to move.
“Your ass looks good in this light,” I try.
She snorts. “Just this light? That’s not good pillow talk either.”
I kiss her neck, slipping one of my legs through hers.
“Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’ll let you go back to sleep, before I once again fuck you,” I deadpan.
To this, she chokes back a laugh, and her body shakes with the silent vibrations of her restrained humor.
I arch an eyebrow. “So we have a winner. What’s my reward?”
“You took the reward first, and I didn’t even get any romance,” she states dryly, the laughter tapering off before the delivery.
“What the hell kind of romance do you want in my room at the clubhouse? Candlelight next to my guns?” I drawl.
“Do you have a house?” she asks, glancing back at me.
I reluctantly let her crawl out of bed, and she goes to the bathroom. I wait until I hear the water running before I answer.
“I did. Don’t anymore,” I call out.
“What happened to it?” she asks as she pokes her head out and tosses me a warm, wet rag.
Apparently, she’d like for me to clean up.
“Sold it,” I say as I quickly tend to the task.
“Okay…want to tell me what’s been going on with you between me leaving and you kidnapping me to bring me back?” she asks as she walks back into the room.
My eyes follow her bare body as she slips back into the bed, lying facing me as she tugs the sheet over very tempting skin.
Immediately, I drag her against me until her head is resting on my arm, and she complies like a doll.
It turns me on how easily she does exactly what I want her to, something far different from before the sex-club.
“What do you want to know? A lot’s happened, so I’m afraid I’m going to need you to be more specific,” I tell her absently, running my hand down her side as I climb under the sheet with her.
She kisses my chest, and my eyes stay fixed on her as she uses her index finger to trace some of the ink I have there.
“You can start with why you got so much ink, and tell me anything else you’re comfortable telling me.”
Hmm. That’s not really a lot. She’s gone out into the world and been with normal, harmless people for too long, such as men who bow up when there’s a little rustle in a diner.
“You’re used to men who posture and try to intimidate someone with small town stature and smallminded balls,” I point out.
“I didn’t realize balls could have small minds,” she says on a flat note, quirking an eyebrow at me.
“It takes balls to stand up to someone like Herrin. It doesn’t take balls to stand up in a diner behind the town sheriff when some guys are making a girl uncomfortable,” I explain. “Except, those guys really think they’re a badass, and they proved it…that one fake time.”
“They’re good guys, Rush,” she calmly argues.