Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Rises and lifts like he’s done speed drills for the last four hours rather than been teased for the past four minutes.
The wetting of his lips is slow and deliberate, a process being taken to clearly collect his thoughts. “You rewarding me for the shit I said or punishing me for it?”
“Both.”
He twitches a glare prior to growing a savage smirk. “None of that shit, Harlow. Have the balls to give me the fucking goal or give me the fucking penalty.”
I wanna give him everything and that is so. Not. The. Right. Response.
“Have the balls to decide what you deserve.”
Having him grab a fistful of my hair unlatches my jaw yet having him dive his dick into the space he created has my fingers slipping between my thighs to alleviate the ache it ignites. Brendan groans and grumbles, grumbles and groans, grabs and guides his cock to the point I’m helplessly gagging around it.
“Fucking take it for me, baby,” he commands in a tone so barbarous I barely recognize it to be his.
The words combined with the delicious brutality have me humping my hand and bobbing my head to the same frantic rhythm. Both sets of muscles repeatedly constrict. Increasingly grow slicker. Are continuously met with crazed stroking. Brendan carves away the territory on grunt after grunt after grunt, ruthlessly reaching the brink, holding me in place at times, ceasing my inability to do anything other than succumb to the power he’s flexing.
And God does he flex it.
With every yank of my hair forward, every disregard for how tangled it’s becoming, every fuck not given to the way pain and pleasure are blurring, he proves that he deserves to have me on my knees.
To have me period.
Feeling his shaft suddenly swell in the deepest depths of my throat spurs my fingers to push harder against my clit.
“Rub that shit the right way,” he unexpectedly instructs, prompting my gaze to shift up. “I want you screaming on my fucking cock.”
Whimpers are rewarded with an arrogant smirk, and the determination to deliver exactly what he’s asked for is instantly increased. Slipping around the jean barrier is quickly followed by the same treatment being given to the panties I remembered to put on. Almost the second I’ve got a finger inside and my palm pressed firmly against my swollen nub, Brendan resumes his brutish behavior. Fucking my face with both hands latched onto the locks right above my ears and lowly groaning through gritted teeth while watching his dick disappear through his sexually hazed gazed. He rocks my entire body back and forth with so much momentum, he’s practically forcing me to fuck myself to the same rhythm as though he’s the one with his finger curled inside. Spit smears past the corners of my lips. Leaks down my chin. Trickles along my neck threatening to find its way to the tops of my cropped t-shirt covered tits. Tears are mercilessly conjured but aren’t allowed to simply prickle at the corners of my eyes.
No, they’re summoned to the rims.
Ordered to fall one by one until blazing hot bursts bombard my throat.
Brendan’s entire body shudders; however, his harsh grip doesn’t waiver. “Show me how good you fucking swallow, baby.”
And I do.
Like my goddamn life depends on it, I guzzle down every last drop.
I moan at the salty flavor.
I moan at the dominance he’s not afraid to establish.
I moan at how good it feels to please while pleasing myself.
Licking him clean is meant to be my main play yet having him switch gears to light tugs and even lighter caresses, showcasing me care even after he’s gotten his transposes my moans to screams as an orgasm pitilessly pummels me into a trembling mess that has to latch her nails into her husband’s thigh to keep from collapsing.
A heated hiss precedes a greedy grumble, “Fuck, I love making you come.”
The heavenly pulsations in my pussy are all of a sudden mirrored in my chest.
Holy shit.
Did he just make my emotions climax?!
Is that a fucking thing that can happen?!
Ugh.
Why is it that every time I feel like I’m finally on solid ice with him, he finds a way to melt it?
Fuck, why am I not afraid to fall?
Or slip?
Or trip?
And why is it that every part of me believes Brendan “Bricks” Brickley is going to be there to catch me whenever it happens, wedding ring or not?
Brendan
Only thing a bigger deal than knocking up your boss?
Knocking her up twice.
Or I guess I should say with two babies instead of just the one.
You know…the one neither of you signed up for to begin with but were adjusting to having.
“What the fuck do you mean we’re having twins!?!?” Harlow screeches at the top of her lungs, shooting her frame up to her bent elbows to meet the doctor’s gaze.
Dr. Melissa Dillard begins removing her gloves. “You’re having twin boys, Hennington.”