The Survivor Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
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A deep moan escaped me, dragging a growling sound from him as his face suddenly shifted to the other side of my chest, sucking my nipple into his mouth.

Desire, white-hot, coursed through me, making my legs slide up his thighs, then wrap around his hips, trying to pull him closer even as his tongue started to trace my nipple.

He wouldn’t press against me, though.

He moved across my chest, continuing the torment until I was writhing and whimpering.

Only then did he look back up at me, his gaze molten, watching me as his fingers traced up my inner thigh, then drifted inward.

A jolt moved through me as I finally felt the tip of his finger tracing up my cleft.

“Already drenched for me,” he murmured, voice shivering over and through me even as his finger found my clit, and started to circle around it, but refused to give me the direct contact I was aching for.

“Wells, please,” I begged, rocking restlessly against him.

Only then did his finger move across the sensitive point, making a ragged moan escape me.

His eyes closed for a second as he took a deep breath.

Then, opening them again, his fingers suddenly moved down, sliding inside me as I whimpered.

That deep rumble moved through him again as my walls tightened around his fingers.

“I need to taste you,” he told me just a second before lowering down in front of me, his tongue tracing up my sex to start to circle my clit.

My hand slapped down on the back of his head, holding him against me, even though he showed no sign of pulling away as his tongue circled and his fingers started to thrust. Lazily at first, then harder and faster as my whimpers became moans, and the need for release grew until my thighs were shaking and clamping on the sides of his head, until my hips were rocking against him, and my walls were tightening around his fingers.

Then, with a catch in my breath that ended on a ragged moan, the orgasm crashed through me, pulling me under the waves again and again until I was gasping for breath and shaking.

Wells’s tongue moved away from my clit, teasing around it instead, then pressing kisses across my inner thigh, up my pelvis, stomach, between my breasts, over my neck, then, finally, claiming my lips once again.

His fingers were still inside me, still, but then thrusting lazily as he kissed me long and deep, and the desire reignited again.

My hands slid down his chest, over his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch under my touch.

My fingers met the waistband of his pants, and snagged it, drawing it down until it slid by itself down to his feet.

My gaze lowered, seeing his cock, long, hard, straining.

My hand moved out, closing around him, hearing a hiss escape him as his body jolted and his hips bucked into my touch.

I didn’t need more encouragement than that.

My thumb teased over the head before I started to stroke him, listening to the way his breathing got fast and ragged.

Suddenly overcome with the need to make him feel how he made me feel, I slid off the sink cabinet, and lowered down in front of him.

My gaze was upward, watching his chest heave and his eyes darken as my tongue moved out to circle the head over and over until his hips were impatiently rocking, until his hand was grabbing the back of my neck, fingers digging in, and his other hand was grabbing the base of his cock, and pressing it against my lips until they parted, inviting him in, sucking him deep.

“Fuck,” he growled, fingers crushing into the back of my skull as he settled deep.

His fingers slid up, twisting in my hair as I started to suck him, slow at first, then growing faster as his groans spurred me on.

His fingers tightened in my hair, creating little pricks of pain across my scalp as he angled it back a bit.

“Let me fuck your mouth,” he demanded, eyes molten, watching me, waiting until I did a tiny nod.

Then his hands were grabbing the sides of my head, holding me still as he rocked his hips into my mouth. Hard. Fast.

His breathing and quiet groans had my sex clenching hard, as turned on by his desire as my own.

But then he was pulling at my hair again, the pain racing across my scalp until I had no choice but to stand.

His lips caressed mine once again, hard and hungry.

He kissed me until the world fell away, until my lips felt fuzzy, and I would swear I was floating.

But then his lips released mine, and he was reaching for me, turning me.

Then there we were, reflected in the giant mirror over the sink cabinet.

My skin was flushed, my chest heaving.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath warming the shell of my ear as his hand landed on my belly.


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