Sweetest Obsession Read online Ann Mayburn (Cordova Empire #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Cordova Empire Series by Ann Mayburn
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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“Oh, my God,” I sighed in delight as his big thumb pressed into my muscles.

“Like that,” Ramón growled against my ear, sending hot and cold shivers through me.

Trying to rally my wits, my voice came out extra husky as I said, “No, not at all.”

“Liar,” I could hear the smile in his voice as the heat of his breath warmed my neck, and his large body curled around mine. “I told you, you’re safe with me, Joy. Just relax, let me take care of you.”

“Can take care of myself,” I grumbled in a totally petulant way, my muscles going limp as the tension slowly left my body. “You smell good.”

I couldn’t stop the sleepy smile from curving my lips as he laughed behind me. “Glad you approve.”

“Makes me want to lick you.”

His hips pressed against my ass, and his thick erection nestled between my silk covered butt cheeks. “Let’s save that for later. Just relax.”

He rolled us over so we lay chest to chest with him on the bottom. Startled out of my sleepy contentment, I started to wiggle away, but he kept me pinned to him. His chest was so wide that when he began to massage my back, I simply collapsed on him and used his broad form like a muscled and warm mattress. I was tired, so tired, and he was so cozy and comfortable. His touch was magic. I’d feel bad about it in the morning, I decided, as he expertly rubbed out some of the tension from the muscles around my spine, his hands sliding over the silk of my nightgown.

In this position, his large erection was even more obvious, but he didn’t grind it into me or anything like that. I momentarily debated yelling at him for being aroused, then decided that was just hypocritical considering my clit was pulsing with the slow beat of my heart. The smell of his cool and woodsy cologne came from the skin of his chest, and I gave up the fight, sinking into him.

His voice blended into the crash of the waves from his phone as he whispered, “I know you can take care of yourself, but I like taking care of you. It makes me feel good—proud that I can make you happy. I’ve never wanted to do this for anyone before. Let me do this for you, Joy, please.”

That was usually my line, my security blanket. If I was busy taking care of other people it fulfilled me in a way nothing else did. I liked making people happy, liked being the one they turned to for comfort and love. It fed my soul to look after other people, especially those that really needed it.

Oddly enough, I often felt guilty if someone showed me that same kind of care, like I was wasting his or her time. I don’t know why I’m this way. God knows, I’ve tried to analyze myself enough over the years to figure it out, I just know it’s one of my personality quirks. This eccentricity of mine had me trying to return the favor to Ramón, stroking his shoulder softly as he continued to give me a world-class massage while sprawled out over his big frame.

“Kay,” I mumbled, my lips not wanting to move enough to form the word.

He let out a happy, rumbling sigh. The way he kind of growled the sound out reminded me of the sound my parent’s Irish Wolfhound would make when we rubbed his belly. That thought had a soft giggle bubbling out of me, my mind already drifting toward sleep. I cuddled deeper into him, scooting up so I could rub my nose against his neck as my hand went limp.

“Night, Ramón.”

My words slurred slightly, and he laughed before rolling my now limp body to the side and arranging me so I was comfy with my head resting where his shoulder and chest met, my leg slung over one of his thick, firm thighs. It was a very intimate position, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The ever-present babble of my mind was absent and I sank into a grateful sleep, safe in his arms.

Seven hours later, my stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast and it was time for lunch. Too bad I was dressed in an oversized men’s robe that belonged to Mark, arguing with Ramón as he pointed to three outfits on the bed that he’d put together for me to choose from. Seriously. This motherfucker seemed to think I was some brainless doll he could dress and order around.

“I gave you a choice,” Ramón growled with an aggrieved look. “Three of them.”

“You can’t tell me what to wear!”

Sighing, he ran a hand through his damp hair. While I used my shower, which had come pre-stocked with all my favorite stuff in brand new bottles, he’d washed up elsewhere and reappeared wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off his muscular, hairy calves and a faded maroon t-shirt with the name of a local boutique Tequila distillery. To my dismay, he looked sexy as fuck this morning. The soft cotton hugged his big frame and showed off that delicious V of his body, the way his wide shoulders tapered to his trim waist. Last night, he’d been all business and totally fuckable, but today he was totally casual, and still completely fuckable. He wore his usual small, thick, gold gauge earrings and had just shaved, making me wonder what his smooth, sensitive skin would feel like against my own when we kissed.


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