Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
That beautiful rage shines bright behind his eyes, but then he says the exact opposite of what he thinks, “Why would I care what you do?”
“Always playing a role, my lotus flower. Hiding, pretending. You obviously broke up with her tonight. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“How…?”
“She told me she was going through a breakup and was looking to forget at the pub.” I try to get my head closer, but he keeps me in place with his unyielding hold. “You did it for me, didn’t you? You lost her because I told you to. No. You did it because you wanted to be with me. Because you know I’m the only one who can give you what you need.”
“Stop dreaming.”
“Stop fucking pretending.” I remove the Band-Aid at his throat, revealing the purple hickey. “Stop hiding.”
He shakes his head, but his fingers loosen around my throat. Bran isn’t weak. Sure, I have more muscles, but he has strength. The reason he let me touch him the previous times isn’t because he couldn’t stop me. It’s because he chose not to stop me.
Like right now.
His war for control breaks like ice beneath his feet.
I’m the lake waiting to swallow him fucking whole.
My fingers spread on his sharp jaw, my lips an inch from his, breathing notes of alcohol and mint off his fractured exhales.
“Don’t you dare…” he whispers and it’s shaky, breathless.
The asshole clearly wants me, he’s burning for it. His body language gives him away. Eyes darkening, nostrils flaring, and fingers holding my neck so lovingly—though he’d argue otherwise—and his huge dick is performing a standing ovation for me.
But he’s still fighting tooth and nail, still refusing to admit the inevitable.
“Want to blame me again?” I murmur against his skin.
A puff of air leaves his mouth and he nods once.
“Then blame me all you want, baby.”
I slam my lips to his, taking what’s mine.
Because he is fucking mine.
It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know it yet and would probably deny it till kingdom come. It doesn’t matter that he’s a fucking asshole.
He’s my asshole. Literally.
Bran opens with a groan, his hot, wet tongue clashing against mine as he moans. He moans like the most erotic fucking thing I’ve ever devoured.
He’s so pliant and passionate when my mouth speaks to his, so fucking wanton and responsive. His hips roll and he brushes his cock against mine as I kiss the living daylights out of him.
I nibble on his bottom lip the way he loves, then plunge my tongue back inside, seeking his greedy one, stroking, rubbing, and twirling.
His jaw flexes with every kiss, every nip, and every savage sound I release down his throat.
I love how his hand glides from my neck to my hair, fisting to keep me in place so he can shove his tongue against mine, searing me to him in ways so foreign and addicting.
More.
I need more.
I jam my knee between his and wrap a leg around his thigh as I grind my cock against his rock-hard one.
The new position gives me better access, more friction, and he groans down my throat as he clenches his fingers in my hair, letting me know how much he likes that.
His cock thickens against mine as I stroke him up and down, rubbing, fondling us until tingles erupt in my spine.
I growl when he picks up on my pace and meets me stroke for stroke. He grunts, pants, and tugs at my hair. It’s the most beautiful pain I’ve ever felt.
How the fuck is he able to drive me crazy by just kissing?
My hands slide down his chest and he groans when I brush his nipple that protrudes from beneath the shirt, so I twist it. He bites on my tongue.
Fucking savage.
I hiss with a grin.
I love it when his beast collides with mine in a fucked-up symphony of violence.
So I slide my hands beneath his shirt, over the smooth planes of muscles, and it’s his turn to hiss when I pinch his nipples. The longer I torture, the more his dick thickens, and the faster he dry humps me, making me drip in my boxer briefs.
I’d love nothing more than to indulge in nipple play and drive him fucking insane, but there’s another part of him I’d rather play with.
Twisting one nipple, I let my other hand travel down and I unbutton his pants. He releases a small gasp when I unzip his fly over his bulge.
This Prince Charming is fucking packing.
I shove my hand inside his briefs and fist his cock at the base with a firm hand, then squeeze.
“Umph…fuck…” he breathes against my mouth, his eyes dazed, eyebrows drawn together, and face dripping with pure fucking desire.
No one should look this edible.
“You like it when I touch you roughly, baby? Do you feel how you thicken in my hand?” I pull him out and stroke him firmly from the base to the tip, teasing the foreskin with my thumb.