Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
He leans away from me long enough to grab my other leg, pulling it up over his shoulder, too. The change in angle has me shouting in surprise. In ecstasy. I don't even freaking know. But when he starts pounding into me, I lose my mind.
"That's it," he growls. "Scream the fucking roof down while I take what's mine." He slips his hand between my legs again, placing all four fingers against my clit and rapidly moving them back and forth.
I shoot over the edge, shouting.
He roars, flipping me onto my stomach. Before I can even miss him, he's inside me again, fucking me even harder than before. I can't do anything except take it as he slips his thumb into my ass again, using his other hand on the harness to yank me back against him.
"Come again, Gemma," he orders.
I want to tell him no. If I come again, I might not survive it. But before I can even muster the words, another orgasm plows into me, knocking my world out of orbit. I fall into it, letting the waves knock me down again and again.
"Good girl." He runs his hand down my back before flipping me again. I land on my back, staring up at him through dazed eyes. He wraps my legs around his hips, dragging my ass into his lap. "You look fucking perfect when you're coming all over me, beautiful. I need to see it again."
"I can't," I gasp.
"You can. You will." He leans down, brushing his lips across mine. "I've got you, Gemma. You can take it."
Except, I already know I can't. If I come again, I'm going to shatter into pieces too fine to put back together. All the king's horses and all the king's men… Isn't that how the saying goes?
But he's staring at me like I'm magic, his eyes full of pride and affection. And when I'm in his arms, I think maybe there is magic in the world. Or magic in us, perhaps. Because, despite every nerve-ending in my body feeling like it's one sensation from complete annihilation, I don't tell him no. How can I?
I think I'd give this man my soul if he asked it of me.
"Yes," I whisper. "I c-can t-take it."
"I know you can." His blinding smile tips me over the edge from love into obsession. He begins to rock inside me again, moving slow and sweet this time. He runs his hands all over me. His lips too. Even bound in ropes, unable to move, he manages to make me feel priceless.
"Bronx," I whisper. "What are you doing to me?"
He runs his lips across my forehead and then my eyelids and cheeks before kissing a trail down to my throat. He nuzzles his face in, breathing deeply. "Showing you how good it is between us, Gemma," he murmurs against my skin. "It doesn't matter if it's rough and filthy or slow and soft, if it's us, it'll always be this fucking good, beautiful."
"I know." I swallow hard. "I know, Bronx."
"Good."
He keeps me close, loving me slowly as we climb the cliff together. Sweet words fall from his lips, praise that brings tears to my eyes. There are so many facets to this man, and every single one is as beautiful as the last. Whether he's bossy and filthy or sweet and tender, he's incredible.
My heart never stood a chance. From the moment I walked through the doors last night, it was his. I was his.
"Come, beautiful," he groans, his mouth open against the side of my throat as he rocks his hips against mine. "Fuck, you gotta come."
"Not until you do."
"What'd I tell you, Dilemma?" He nips my skin. "I make the fucking rules in this bed."
"Fuck your rules, Bronx," I whisper, clenching my inner muscles around his length.
He roars, his teeth sinking into my skin.
I cry out in bliss, my core clenching hard as my orgasm looms in front of me, pulled out by the feel of his teeth in my skin and the way he responds as if that one little sentence sets his entire soul ablaze.
He plants his forearms on the bed on each side of me, pounding into me until he lets go with a groan that ripples across the room. I throw my head back, my eyes falling closed as the waves of my orgasm crest, crashing over me in a tsunami of bliss.
I fall backward into them, bound in Bronx's ropes…and tied to him more tightly than ever.
Chapter Eight
Bronx
"Come on, beautiful," I murmur, lifting Gemma gently from the bed to carry her into the bathroom. I've already stripped the ropes from her and started the tub so she can soak. She sighs, pressing her face against my throat. One arm curls around my neck, anchoring her to me.
My goddamn heart threatens to beat out of my chest again, trying to get to her. Not that it's mine anymore. She's already claimed the whole damn thing, branding every inch of it with her name. Property of Gemma. Says it right there in fire.