Fight for You Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
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I won't miss any more. Even if it kills me, even if I die trying, I'll find a way to be worthy of her.

I bounce her up and down on my cock, moaning each time she takes all of me. She's so small, and I'm big and hard everywhere. You'd think we wouldn't fit together, but she was made to take this dick. It was made for her pussy. Only hers. Always hers.

“You like how fucking good that feels, January?”

She cries out my name again, wiggling and moaning. Pleasure is stamped across each delicate feature of her face, blazing so hot it's like staring into the sun. I feel like a god as I fuck her, my hand wrapped around her throat, my lip between my teeth, and my eyes half-mast.

Her body responds to me like it knows who it belongs to…like it's been waiting for me to come back and claim it. I do, pounding into her so hard she'll feel me for days. She'll smile every time she remembers how hard I took her. When she slides that little hand into her panties in the dark and touches herself next time, she'll think about this.

I yank the cups of her bra down, exposing those luscious tits to my greedy gaze. They're obscene and perfect…pert and bouncy with big pink nipples made for my mouth. I pull one between my teeth and bite down.

Her pussy contracts around my cock, another breathy cry of pleasure leaving her lips.

“That’s it, little monster,” I growl. “Let me hear how fucking good you feel.”

“So good,” she whimpers, writhing on me. “God, Cade. I forgot how fucking good it was.”

I lick and bite and suck her tits until her nipples are red and my marks are all over her. The sight has my cock aching for release.

"I need you to come, baby girl," I tell her, bouncing her harder. Her tits jiggle and shake in my face. I have to bury my face between them for a minute. They demand it. "You gotta come, sweetheart. I need that pussy soaking me when I go off."

"Cade," she whimpers and writhes. Her pussy contracts on me, her inner walls rippling up and down my length.

"Goddammit, January," I growl, throwing my head back in ecstasy. I squeeze her throat. "Fucking come or I'm spanking your ass before I eat that pussy."

"Cade!" she screams and comes all over me. She thrashes and wails, trying to push me off and pull me closer at the same time. Her pussy clamps down on me.

I roar her name as my own climax rips through me, tearing me apart. My heart stops beating for a second. My mind empties, the capacity for thought vanishing as her pussy milks my cock for every drop. I give it to her, pumping into her and roaring her name until I can't breathe.

When my cock finally stops spilling into her, she's splayed across the door, her pussy still fluttering around me. Her hair is a sweaty mess and her cheeks are pink. She's wrecked and even more perfect than before.

I open my mouth to tell her I love her, that I never stopped loving her and never will. But I can't form the words. I'm not sure she's ready to hear them and I'm suddenly terrified if I say it, she'll realize I don't deserve her. She'll kick my sorry ass out of here.

I won't survive that this time.

So I swallow the confession back and press the words into her skin instead. Three little kisses on the side of her throat, right where her pulse pounds. One for each word I don't say, whispered directly to her heart.

January falls asleep with a sated smile on her lips. She looks so perfect my chest aches. With a groan, I lift her pliant body away from the door and wrap her up in my arms. She snuggles into me with a content sigh. I stumble down the hall to her bedroom.

With the exception of the pale pink walls, the room isn't the same as I remember. She's replaced her double bed and girly sheets for a queen-sized sleigh bed and soft blue-gray bedding. Her awards and achievements have been stripped from the walls, replaced by framed photos that blare evidence of her sorrow into the dark. They're supposed to be inspirational, reminders to keep going, to never give up, to fight like hell. Each shouts louder than the words they contain of how hard the last seven years have been for her. Every one of them makes my heart bleed.

I should have been here to take care of her, to make sure she wasn't alone. Instead, I was hiding in Seattle, buried so far under the persona I adopted to survive that I don't even know who I am most of the time. When I look in the mirror, I don't see her Cade anymore. I don't see Michael anymore. I killed him little by little, smothering him beneath years of hard living. I'm Kincaid now…the only son of a bitch crazy enough to stroll into the middle of gang territory and declare himself judge, jury, and executioner.


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