Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
We pulled up at the apartment and Ted escorted us into the elevator. I said my goodbyes to Matt and Nicole as they got off on their floor and then rode to the top by myself.
When I came into the apartment, it was dark. Ryland was sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand, still wearing his tux.
I toed off my heels and walked towards him slowly like I was approaching a wild animal.
“Don’t, Brighton.” His voice was ice cold. “Just go to bed.”
I didn’t listen. I knelt before him and rubbed my cheek against his thigh as I reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away, but his body was still coiled with explosive tension. I hated that and wanted more than anything to take it all away from him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize…”
“Do you know him?” Ryland asked, his gaze seeking mine in the shadows.
I squeezed his hand in mine so he couldn’t pull away. “I met with him last week,” I admitted. “He said he was interested in the charity. I didn’t realize what kind of man he was.”
Ryland released my hand and knocked back the rest of his drink. He was definitely pissed. Trying for another tactic, I moved my hands up his thighs, stroking over the bulge in his pants.
“Please, Ryland,” I murmured. “I need you. Let’s do what we do. Let’s forget this.”
“I can’t forget it,” he yelled. “He fucking threatened you. And I don’t trust myself not to be rough with you right now. Go to bed.”
Even as he said the words, I felt him hardening beneath my palm. He needed this just as much as I did, but he was afraid of hurting me. He would never hurt me, but he didn’t trust himself like I did. He didn’t know himself like I did.
I flicked open the button of his trousers and pulled his shirt away. He hissed in a breath and reached down to grab my wrist.
“Brighton.” His voice was thick with warning. “I mean it. I’m not in a good place right now.”
I shrugged his hand off mine and reached into his pants to stroke him through his briefs. He was burning hot and hard as steel. When his head fell back against the sofa for a moment, I thought I had him.
Then his hand came down to thread through my hair and tightened painfully.
“You want to make it right?” he asked.
I nodded, my lips parting at the fire in his eyes. God, I missed that fire.
He stood up and dragged me to the dining room table, putting me lewdly on display before he shoved his pants down his hips.
“Open your mouth.”
I did. Reaching under my shoulders, he pulled me down so that my head dangled off the edge of the table. He fisted his cock and rubbed it against my lips, sullying my lipstick the way he liked.
“Suck on it,” he demanded.
I obeyed him in the slavish manner I always did when he spoke to me that way. Grasping him in my fist, I milked out his pre-cum and smeared it across my lips before they parted and accepted him inside. The hitch in his breath and the flare in his eyes told me he liked it, even though he seemed to be at a loss for words himself. He loomed over me, observing with blazing eyes as I drew him in with long, slow pulls. He enjoyed this moment of gentle intimacy before he was rough. I never understood why, but it didn’t matter. I would take Ryland any way I could get him.
His fingers gripped the edge of the table as he leaned forward and closed his eyes. Tension radiated through his every muscle as he struggled to control himself. It wouldn’t be long until he gave up on it completely, and I wanted to push him off that ledge. I drew him deeper, harder, scraping my teeth against the crown of his head.
He rumbled his approval as he shoved the top of my dress down to bare my breasts. They rose and fell with excited breaths as he skimmed each mound with the palm of his hand. My heart escalated to a bombastic rhythm in my chest, my back arching up to accommodate his touch that I so desperately needed. I hated when he deprived me of it.
He was on me then, the darkness inside of him crackling to life as his fingers came to rest on the hollow of my throat. He pushed his hips into my face and cupped the back of my head with his other hand until he was as deep as I could take him. My moans vibrated against him and his eyes darkened in response.
“Are you enjoying this?” he tightened his grip on my hair and tugged. “Do you like to provoke me, Brighton?”