Bayou Bruiser Read Online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Novella, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
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Before I register his actions, his hands slide under my knees and I’m being yanked off the table. The borrowed shirt is pulled up and off, over my head. Cast aside.

And then I’m being pushed face down over the table.

My ass is slapped sharply, inviting a whimper from my mouth.

Staring down at the polished wood of our dining room table, excitement beyond words mounts inside of me. It’s always like this. Heart-pounding desperation. It only gets better every time he lays his hands on me, more and more eager each time.

Here is the thing.

They say behind every powerful man is a strong woman—and we are no exception.

Five years ago, we dropped Frank’s lifeless body off at his hideout with a note stuffed into his mouth, letting everyone know Benny was in charge now. And the next day, it was simply the truth. He’d felled the king. There was a new alpha in town. Now he rules our parish, with me occasionally whispering wisdom into his ear. The difference between us and Frank is that we have a code. A method. When a loan comes due, we give our would-be victim the tools to pay us back. We secure them a job. A way out.

Some of them take it, some of them don’t.

But Benny’s merciful approach has made him a god in these parts.

And that makes me his goddess. Or his angel, as he calls me with such reverence.

Now, his belt buckle clanks behind me and he grunts, smacking my thonged backside with his steely shaft several times, both of our breath going shallow already.

“Been dreaming of this ass all fucking day,” he groans, pinching the sides of my thong in between his fingers and tugging them down to my knees. “You knew it, too, didn’t you? Took one of those lavender baths knowing I’d be eating it whole.” There’s a familiar thunk as his knees hit the ground. A wet rush takes place between my thighs when he pries apart the cheeks of my bottom and starts licking my back entrance. He makes love to that pucker, dragging the flat of his tongue up and down, jiggling it with the pad of his thumb. Kissing it lovingly.

I lift my hips so he can watch me sink two fingers into my sex.

Drawing them in and out for his enjoyment—and mine.

“I love the way you lick me, Daddy,” I moan, pushing my digits deep. “Love the way you get me ready.”

“For fucking. Yes, God, the fucking.” Another sharp spank to my backside. “I don’t know how I leave the house every day. Don’t know how I leave this tight pussy and ass for a second.” He growls into another rough lick up the center of my bottom. “Tell me you wrote all day about my cock. Tell me you wrote about squirting all over my lap.”

“I did,” I gasp, my lips curling in a mischievous smile, thinking of the manuscript I just sent off to my editor. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without all that research we did.”

“Happy to help,” he growls, pushing a careful finger into the breach between my cheeks, making my mouth fall open on a whine of his name. My own fingers pump in and out of my flesh, bringing moisture to my clit and rubbing, rubbing. “How close are you?”

When all I can do is babble in response, Benny knocks aside my fingers, replacing them with his own in a swift invasion of my womanhood. Then he uses his free hand to push slowly, slowly into my back entrance, his breath sawing in and out of his throat. With every inch he puts inside me, I bite down harder on my bottom lip until I taste blood.

But not in pain.

In pleasure.

There is nothing I hunger for more than being totally claimed by my Daddy.

And he does so now. Rutting me like a beast from the swamp, grunting and cursing vilely, his testicles slapping off my buttocks with every crude pump. We own each other. We make sure the other knows it, too. Benny wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing, and I clench my muscles around him, making him shout for Jesus. He takes me with such violence that our table rams into the china cabinet, rattling it out loudly. Loud enough to wake our daughter and son, if Benny didn’t have the foresight to soundproof the bedrooms.

Finally, finally, his blunt fingers are covered in my pleasure and he seizes up, collapsing on me with a yell. As he fills me up for the first time tonight.

But not the last.


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