Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
He didn’t dominate with just one technique. He mastered them all, licking the corner of her mouth, sinking his teeth into her lips, sipping at the seam, sweeping deep into the recesses, quick pecks, long deep perusals, and everything in between.
He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her until she couldn’t feel her tongue, couldn’t unlock her jaw, and couldn’t taste anything but him.
When he finally came up for air, she floated in a fog that smelled only of him—his breath, the swollen flesh of his lips, the skin on his masculine face. Even his whiskers had a warm, rough, comforting scent.
Comforting? No, it was…
Familiar.
She’d been naked with him for hours, with him in ways she’d never been with anyone else. He was the most familiar thing she’d ever known. The kind of familiarity that cultivated a sense of safety and attachment.
A vein of fear ran through her, sharp enough to shake her from his spell. “This isn’t real.”
“It feels good and ugly, painful and fucking extraordinary. That’s life, Kate. That’s real.” Lines formed between his dark eyes as he searched her face. “It doesn’t get more real than this. I know you feel it.”
“It’s Stockholm syndrome.”
“Don’t give a shit what you call it.” His accent thickened, sliding across her skin. “Doesn’t change what it is.”
The frantic wallop of her heart rang in her ears. “What do you call it, then?”
“Ours.” He drifted closer and stabbed his hands in her hair, holding her lips to his. “You and me. Wide awake. Alive. This is all we have left, and it’s the only real we’ll ever need.”
He captured her mouth in a brutal attack, sucking her in, commanding her heart rate, possessing, always taking. His tongue controlled hers, hot and strong, feral and unstoppable. His terrifying power curled around her, summoning her darkest shame. Promising to fulfill every depraved fantasy. Vowing to hurt and cherish her in equal measures.
Diabolical hands found the flesh of her ass and squeezed aggressively, achingly. Palms inched over her hips, fingers splaying as they skimmed up her ribs to her chest and continued along her arms.
The kiss didn’t slow as he reached the rope around her wrists, tugging at it.
He was untying her?
The restraints loosened and fell away, and her breath caught.
She stared into his eyes, her hands lowering, free to grip the first thing she encountered—the hard bulges of his shoulders. She meant to push him away, but he was too big, too heavy, too overwhelming.
She held on, sinking fingernails into puckered scars.
Yanking one of her legs around his hip, he pressed his weight into her body and effectively trapped her against the mattress.
His eyes narrowed, and ruthlessness strewed across his handsome face. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
“What? You already—”
“Don’t let go.”
Then he went off the rails.
The moment Tiago relinquished his self-control, Kate realized just how much he’d been holding back.
She lost track of time as he fucked, kissed, and tumbled her over every inch of the bed. It was nothing like before. This was a rebellion of chaos and mastery, thunder and liquid smoke.
His thrusts trailed fire. Fingers bruised flesh. Teeth caught lips, and his sounds lost all traces of strangled vulnerability. He growled and grunted from some deep chasm in hell, roaring like a majestic beast in battle, pounding his cock inside her, fighting to get closer, raging, rabid, and petrifying.
Shredded muscles rippled and pumped beneath her hands. Sweat squelched in the creases of their bodies. Her arousal leaked to her legs and spread between their grinding hips. His, hers, they were drenched in wetness, sliding together and burning up.
His broad torso blocked her view of the room, the lamp light, the entire world as he bowed over her, pommeling into her body with the stamina of a fully-charged machine. Ramming. Heaving. Groaning. Kissing.
His kiss owned her soft parts, her compassion and humanity. But this… This brutal, unruly savage of a man owned something darker, something innately carnal and animalistic inside her. He’d woken her from dormancy, ripped her away from shelter and safety, and preyed on the hunger she couldn’t hide from him.
A turbulence of conflict tore through her gut. She feared him down to the marrow of her bones. Desired him with every fiber of her sexuality. Cursed him to the ends of her pride and back.
She shouldn’t have to remind herself this wasn’t consensual, yet as he took her mouth with those fierce, unapologetic lips, she fell in, aching for more, drowning in the overload of his terrible beauty and passion.
“Fucking goddamn.” His huge hand cupped the side of her face, stealing her breath and pieces of her soul. “Feels so good, Kate. So fucking honest and real. I need to come. I need…” He pushed deep inside and choked. “I can’t hold off much longer.”
Hold off? He’d been fucking her all night.