Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“Yes, you are. Always were and always fucking will be.” He thrusts into me in one powerful go so that the table and whatever remains on top rattles.
My pussy clenches around his cock and this time, Landon tightens the belt around my neck as he drives into me with powerful urgency.
“You’re taking my cock so fucking well, Mia. You’re my favorite little cum bucket, aren’t you?”
I don’t say anything. I can’t.
Lan pulls me using the belt so that my sticky chest is glued to his and my nipples brush over his hard muscles. My breath is stolen by his grip but also by the absolute unapologetic possessiveness he touches me with.
It’s like we belonged together several lives ago and we’re just reuniting.
Or maybe we’re doomed lovers who finally found our way back to each other again.
His pace grows harder, faster until it’s nearly impossible to keep up.
My legs wrap around the backs of his thighs, the heels of my boots digging into his flesh, and my fingers sinking in the slithering slope of the snake tattoo.
I’m holding on to him for dear life, but also because it feels so fucking right to be so tangled together that I have no clue where he ends and where I begin.
“Hold on to me, little muse. Quench this fucking thirsty rage inside me.” His words sound sinister in my neck. “You’re the only one who knows how.”
And then he bites down on the flesh he assaulted not so long ago.
I don’t know if it’s because of his words or the stimulation or the fact that I missed his crazy touch more than I would like to admit, but I come in a spurt of spasms.
White dots form behind my lids and I’m a mess of tremors, but I don’t let him go. It feels vital not to.
Lan fucks me through my orgasm, his thrusts going deeper and faster until the world seems to shake around me.
As I’m still recovering from the orgasm, Lan pushes me back so that my shoulders rest against the wall behind me. He reaches for a piece of his equipment—a metal ball with a handle—licks the ball, and then glides it in the liquid on my inner thighs.
“I need to fill your little arse with my cum, but first…” He pulls out and flips me so that my stomach is on the table, my feet are on the ground, and my ass is in the air.
Landon parts my ass cheeks and I hear it before I feel it. He spits on my back hole as he thrusts his cock into my oversensitive cunt.
“Once I’m done, every inch of you will be mine and mine alone.” Then he slides what feels like the ball around my back hole before he slowly drives it inside.
I tense up, not even the pleasure in my pussy making this tolerable. Agonized noises leave my lips and I bite it down.
“Shh. Relax for me.” His rhythm slows but deepens, hitting my G-spot over and over again.
Moans slip out of me, and apparently, I relax enough, because he drives the ball all the way inside my ass. I feel the burn, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.
In fact, pleasure spreads all over my core until it’s become all I can think about.
I’m so full and stuffed to the brim, it’s both overwhelming and thrilling.
My nails dig into the edges of the table, my breath condensing on the surface as I take in the entirety of the intense emotions.
“That’s it. You’re taking my cock so well, baby.”
The praise coupled with the way he calls me baby is enough to make me come again.
Stronger this time.
Harder.
And I scream, wishing—no, I actually try to say his name.
But it only comes out as a long sound. No words.
Just eternal silence.
Landon’s pace grows in intensity and he joins me soon after. He pulls out and spreads his cum all over my ass so that my skin is a mess of erotic stickiness.
I can barely breathe, let alone think. My ears ring and my heart seems to be fighting to keep me alive.
However, everything quiets down when Landon leans over, pushes away my hair and ribbons from my face, and whispers, “Fucking mine.”
I am.
But then again, so is he.
33
LANDON
My fingers flow over my sketchbook in a sporadic, chaotic rhythm that I have little to no control over.
And I’m the type who thrives on control and having everything under my fucking thumb.
Yet I can’t put an end to the figures I’ve been sketching for hours. Don’t ask me how many, because I have no clue what I made during the time I’ve spent trapped in this endless loop.
It’s been so long that I’ve lost count, and I’ve also lost the ability to get past this stage.
It’s been long enough that my lips have become dry. Since there’s nothing to keep them company, it’s impossible to tune them out.