Love You Never (Western Wildcats Hockey #2) Read Online Jennifer Sucevic

Categories Genre: College, Forbidden, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Western Wildcats Hockey Series by Jennifer Sucevic
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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I can only feel.

He spreads my cheeks apart as he nibbles at me before spearing his tongue deep inside my drenched center. I can’t help but arch into his touch, only wanting to get closer.

The warmth of his mouth disappears as he smacks my ass again. “I’m the one who decides just how much you get.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle the arousal that spikes through me like sharp knives.

He whacks me again. The crisp sound echoes in the silence of the room.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

When I remain silent, he smacks the other side. “I want an answer.” His finger slides across my swollen lips before zeroing in on my clit and rubbing soft circles. The pleasure is enough to make my body hum.

“Yes!” I blurt, unable to hold it back.

He presses his lips against my pussy. “Good girl. I know what you need, Carina. Let me give it to you.”

His soft words knock the air from my lungs.

I squeeze my eyes tightly closed, almost hating how strong my need is to bend to his will and hand myself over to him.

The prospect is a scary one.

His large hands gently stroke over my flank, hips, and back. The caress is so soothing. Comforting. He continues to nibble until I’m dripping and writhing against him. Only then does he dip a finger inside me.

Once.

Twice.

On the third time, he drags it from my over-sensitized body.

I wait for him to rise to his feet and plunge inside me like he always does. To take me hard and fast, fucking us both until we’re mindless.

Instead, one hand settles in the middle of my back, pushing me further to the mattress until it becomes necessary to arch my spine. My breath catches as he spreads my cheeks and uses the same finger that had just been buried deep inside my core to circle my rosebud.

When he makes no move to penetrate the opening, my rigidly held muscles loosen as I sink into the mattress. After a while, my eyelids feather closed. There’s something strangely relaxing about the massage.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” It never occurs to me to lie.

Every once in a while, he drifts over the tiny pucker. Each time he does, my breath hitches, bracing for more.

Wanting more?

I’m unsure.

There’s something so taboo about what he’s doing but I can’t say that I don’t like it. Or want to explore more of it.

“You’re so fucking pretty. Everything about you is.” There’s a pause as his deep voice grows whipcord tight. “I want to be the only one who touches you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I do. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I want it too.

I want to belong to Ford.

And I want him to belong to me.

His finger drifts over me again. “Carina?”

“Yes.”

“And you want that too?”

“I do.”

“Good girl.”

With that, his finger glides over my rosebud again. My body tenses as he teases the entrance, prodding the opening until he’s able to slip inside. There’s a slight burn as the muscles stretch around the intrusion.

“Your ass is so damn tight, baby. I can’t imagine what it would be like to bury myself deep inside you. To take and own you this way.”

A huff of relief escapes from me as he withdraws.

It’s short lived.

In the very next breath, he presses his finger back inside, sliding deeper than before. I close my eyes and silently wait for him to withdraw, but that doesn’t happen. His movements stall as blood thrums through my veins until a dull roar fills my ears. It takes a handful of seconds before my muscles lose their rigidity. Instead of trying to squirm away from this new intimacy, I sink further into it.

A sigh of pleasure escapes from me.

“That’s it, baby,” he croons. “Just relax and let it all go.”

When I release a breath, he presses even deeper until he’s fully seated and his palm rests along the curve of my ass. There’s something so possessive about the hold.

It doesn’t make sense that I would find this comforting, but there’s no denying that I do.

Maybe it’s because he demanded that I give myself over to him.

To trust him enough to let go.

And that’s exactly what I’ve done.

As those thoughts run rampant through my brain, I realize that as many guys as I’ve fucked, I’ve never allowed myself to be intimate. I’ve never given myself over for safekeeping or allowed myself to be vulnerable.

It’s so much more than physical.

It’s emotional as well.

I can almost feel the silky webs tangling around me, binding me to him in ways I never dreamed possible.

If I were thinking clearly, I’d immediately distance myself. With his finger buried deep inside me, there’s no way to do that. I’m raw and exposed. His for the taking. And there’s nothing I can do about it.


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