Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
“Show me, my brute.”
I rush around the desk, grab her around the throat, throw her across the surface, pinning her there with my chest over her back and holding her down. “Do you still want me to show you how crazy I am when it comes to you?”
“Yes,” she moans, and the vibration in my hand only spurs on the pure lust. I free myself from my shorts and lift her shirt up to see she hasn’t bothered to put on any panties.
“You were just waiting for me, keeping this pussy open for me to take.” I slap her ass hard. “So fucking good. The thought of losing you is unbearable. Stop me if this is too much.”
“Please don’t stop. Fuck me, brute. Show me how much you want to tear my pussy apart. Punish me for putting my nose in your business.” I take her breathy command as word and stuff my fat cock into her sopping wet entrance, stealing her breath as I push in deep, rattling my desk.
“Fuck. You’re going to make me come fast.” My hands move down, plucking on her round tits that will be growing bigger soon because I haven’t used any fucking protection. I’m going to be adding to the group of kids around here. Although, I’m not sure I’ll be a good father. I’m a terror, but I’m sure as hell a great protector.
“I’m coming with you,” she moans out.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me fill you with my sons.”
“Or daughters,” she challenges, knowing that will irritate me. Princesses are too much trouble and one like her will be dangerous.
“Not if I can help it,” I roar, strumming her clit and sending us both over the edge.
“You know you can’t control that.”
I pull out and kiss her flat belly. “The hell I can’t. The way I just screwed you, there’s no way an angel can be born from that. My little Satan was created in mommy’s womb.”
“Or you can have a hell’s angel.”
“Then we’ll all need help.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her while gripping the back of her neck. I tilted her head upward and checked her for bruising. There’s nothing there, but I’m a big motherfucker and I’d hate myself if I ever hurt her.
“I’m fine. I’m more than fine. As a matter of fact, I’m completely satisfied, so how about we get some sleep since I have a really big day tomorrow?” Did she have to remind me about that? It’s like she’s asking for her pussy to be perpetually destroyed.
“Okay,” I grunt, carrying her to our bed. Finally, we close our eyes around three in the morning, but my sleep is fitful as I consider all the ways I want to destroy Strongman and the ways he could hurt my January before I can get to her.
Chapter Eight
January
After a quick debriefing with Dario this morning, I stepped into the lobby of the station, pretending that nothing’s wrong. I’m running on hardly any sleep frayed nerves, but I have to do this, though. Smiling at security, he greets me and is surprised to see me. “Good morning, Ms. Holmes.”
“Good morning, Tony,” I say sweetly. Technically, we were supposed to be gone for another couple of days, but with the story falling through there was no point in staying away.
I walk past him and that’s when I spot Marion. The show’s producer comes up to me. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.” She wraps me up in a hug.
“Good morning, Marion,” I say, giving my best attempt at normalcy.
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you in today given all the stuff with your landlord.” It’s been all over the news, so I’m sure she’s been made aware of it, but is that what Jason told her about our trip? I need to dig a little deeper.
“Yeah, I was able to make it in. Didn’t want to completely let you guys down. Where’s Jason?”
“He’s in the middle of a call, but the staff meeting is in ten. I’m sorry about your landlord. I heard the police required you to return back to Chicago, calling the project short.” I nod, shaking my head and absorbing her sympathy with just the right amount of sadness.
“Yes, so sorry about it all as well. It’s a real loss to the station since the scoop was a bust.” So that’s the story Jason spun about my sudden departure from the cabin. Good. I’m glad I didn’t have to lie. Holding my head up high, I walk into the conference room and take a seat in my usual spot just beside Jason’s chair.
He walks in, stutter steps and turns pale, but after he regains his composure he takes a seat next to me. I lean in and whisper. “I’ve agreed with your story. It’s better than mine.”