Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
This man is going to change my entire freaking world. And I think I might just let him. I don't care how bossy he is. I don't care if he's a little bit broken. All I care about is the wild hunger screaming in my soul.
"Zion," I groan, clinging to his broad shoulders as if to root myself to reality.
"I know," he pants against my lips before coming back for more. "Fucking Christ, angel baby. I know."
He kisses me again and then again, pulling me deeper and deeper under his spell. Drowning me in desire and lighting me on fire with need. He walks us backward to the bed before gently pushing against my shoulders. I fall backward, bouncing against the soft pillowtop.
"You taste like peaches, angel baby," he drawls. The bed dips as he crawls onto it with me. "I'm dying to know if you taste that good everywhere."
"I…I…" I can't seem to form a coherent sentence, so I give up trying and simply nod, giving him permission. I want the same thing he does. Maybe even more than he does. I've been a bundle of raw nerves all day, desperate for the next time he puts his hands on me.
He drags my shirt up, pressing his lips to my belly. It quivers beneath him, heat sinking deep into my womb. I grip his hair in my hands, trying to keep it together as he kisses his way up my body, taking my shirt with him.
"Fuck me," he growls once he's got it off over my head, leaving me half naked and sprawled out beneath him. "I knew these would be perfect when I saw them in that bikini, but this is…" He shakes his head, speechless.
"They're boobs, Zion."
"No, Makenzie. They're fucking perfect." He dips his head, his teeth closing around one hard nipple in a punishing bite. It's torment. It's heaven. Oh, my God. It's everything.
I cry out, my back bowing from the bed as a blast of pleasure rips through me.
"Make that fucking sound again," he growls against my skin, his eyes flicking to mine. "Louder this time." His teeth sink into my skin again as he drags my nipple through them.
"Zion!" I shout, thrashing beneath him.
He slips his hands around my waist, lifting me into his arms to get me closer to his mouth as he attacks my breasts, snarling like a beast. He's unruly and wild, lavishing me with punishing bites and sweet kisses. He sucks and curses and pants, leaving me sobbing his name.
He hasn't even touched my pussy, and I'm already a throbbing, aching mess of want and need and now, please. I need it. More than air or water or life. I need him right there, solving the problem he's created.
If this is why my mother is the way she is, I understand the allure now. How much would I give up to have this potent pleasure every day? How much of my soul would I sell to keep Zion right here like this?
All of it. All of it.
He releases my breast, kissing down my body. His teeth rake across my abdomen. His tongue dips into my belly button. He lavishes attention on every dip and curve, not shying away from a single imperfection.
By the time he peels my shorts and panties down my legs, I'm a stuttering, shaking mess, too far gone to feel embarrassed. All I feel is him. Everywhere. He's consuming me, piece by piece.
"Mm," he moans, dragging his nose down the crevice of my thigh. "Peaches and pussy."
"Zion," I whimper, arousal flooding between my legs.
His eyes flash open, landing on mine. "What'd I tell you about saying my name like that, Makenzie? Didn't you learn your lesson today?"
"Teach me again. I forgot."
He growls, bending his head to sink his teeth into my inner thigh. "You like fucking with me, don't you?"
Do I? Or do I do it simply because it's who I am?
"Yes," I admit. I like pushing his buttons. I like knowing I don't intimidate him. I like knowing I can say whatever the hell I want to say and do whatever I want to do with him and he just continues on. I should hate how easily he handles me. The fact that he tells me what to do and doesn't even flinch when I'm giving him a piece of my mind should infuriate me. It's foreplay.
Maybe he isn't the only one who's a little bit broken here. But I like the way our pieces fit together.
"At least your ass is honest." He nips my thigh again, breathing deeply as if to keep my scent in his lungs. "You better hang on to something, angel baby. I'm about to punish the fuck out of this perfect little thing." His eyes glitter with wicked malice. "And I'm not going to quit until you're too exhausted for me to keep going."