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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I watched as it slid upward, teasing over each of my breasts as my head fell back on his chest, then slipping downward and between my thighs, teasing me once again.

Once I was whimpering and writhing, he reached between us, grabbed his cock, and slipped it between my thighs, rubbing against my cleft until I was so far gone again that I was begging for him to fill me.

“Please, Wells,” I whimpered, watching his eyes spark as he continued to rock against me.

He bent forward over me, teeth nipping my neck, as he pulled open a drawer, rifling through before producing the protection, and slipping it on.

Reaching down, he grabbed my leg, stretching it up, and placing my knee wide on the counter as he positioned behind me, his cock teasing my cleft for another moment until I was rocking against him again.

Only then did he slide back and press against me, claiming me inch by perfect inch until he was settled deep.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing, the side of his head pressing into mine as he tried to find his self-control.

I didn’t want control, though.

With him settled deep inside me, all I wanted was relief from the aching need within.

My hips rocked against him until his fingers flexed, digging into my hips, then he started to move inside of me.

Slowly at first, but faster as I rocked impatiently against him.

His hand slid upward, grabbing my shoulder, and pushing me forward until one of my hands shot out, bracing on the mirror as he started to fuck me harder, making my whole body jolt with each thrust.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his gaze focused on my breasts as he thrust, then sliding up to my face. “See how good you’re taking me?” he groaned as he fucked me harder still.

One hand stayed at my hip.

The other slipped between my thighs, teasing my clit as he drove me up up up.

“Yeah,” he urged as my walls tightened. “Squeeze my cock,” he groaned. “Come for me,” he demanded.

Then, as if I’d been seeking his permission, I did, crying out.

And if it weren’t for my arm braced on the mirror, I was sure I would have face-planted with the intensity of the orgasm as it kept washing over me again and again.

“More,” he demanded when I finally came back down.

“I can’t,” I insisted, shaking my head.

“Yes, you can,” he told me, reaching for my leg, and pulling it down off of the counter.

His cock slid out of me as he turned me, then lifted my leg again, and slammed back inside. My moan was swallowed by his lips as he reached down, grabbed my legs, and yanked me up and off my feet.

He turned then, slamming me back against the wall.

As rough as his hands and lips were, he was slow and gentle inside me, seeming to sense my body’s need to climb back up slowly.

But when I was moaning and my nails were raking across his back again, he fucked me harder, driving us both up to that edge, before we crashed down together.

My cries echoed back at me, but were nearly drowned out by his groans and savage curses as he planted deep, his body jerking hard as he came.

His face buried in my neck as he held me there, both of us trying to find calm in the chaos of our bodies.

I couldn’t say how long we stayed there like that, but I felt a shiver coursing through me when I was finally fully aware of myself again.

Wells pulled backward, gaze on mine as he let my legs fall from around his hips.

The haze of desire gone, I couldn’t help the rush of uncertainty inside of me as we moved away from each other.

Wells grabbed his pants and walked back into the bedroom.

I moved toward my pile of clothes, and quickly climbed into them, feeling a little calmer when I was covered up again.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at myself for a moment, trying to decide what my next move was supposed to be.

Going back to my room? Saying nothing.

That felt wrong.

We were adults.

Sex didn’t have to be a big deal.

Not even amazing, world-shattering, soul-satisfying sex.

Focusing on that was certainly not helping, judging by the way my cheeks went immediately pink.

I found and hung up my towel, then made my way out of the bathroom, finding Wells sitting off the side of his bed, looking at something on his phone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as I tried to kind of tiptoe past, practically unseen.

“Oh, ah, my room,” I said, gesturing toward the hallway.

He angled his head up to look at me as he set his phone back on the nightstand.

“Why?”

“Ah, because… it’s my room?” I said.

“You don’t want to stay here instead?” he asked.

“Oh, ah,” I started, but then he reached outward, anchoring my hips, and pulling me until I was standing between his legs.


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