Torrid Read online Nikki Sloane (Sordid #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sordid Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 100796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
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I grabbed onto her ass, squeezing as I watched my cock disappear inside her. It was slick. Once it started feeling good for her, Oksana got wetter. I peeled her ass cheeks apart so I could see better, and I did it so hard, she probably felt like I was going to rip her in two. She whimpered. Pain mingled with pleasure.

Fuck her until she comes.

The muscles in my thighs were warm and tight. Any position during sex eventually got exhausting if you did it too long. I wouldn’t be able to maintain this one forever, even though it was sexy as fuck and felt amazing.

“You come, and then I come,” I said in a rush. “Okay? You come, then me.”

Her pussy clenched tight around me. Her gasps for breath increased in intensity. Yes. She was getting close. I picked up my tempo, leaning back so more of my body would strike her clit with my thrusts.

I tried to soften my voice and pull it from her. “Tell me. Are you going to come? Are you gonna come for me?”

She moaned something I couldn’t make it out, but it sounded positive. Her cries swelled. Her body locked up. Fuck me, she was about to go off. I gripped her ass like it was the only thing keeping me attached to the world as I fucked her, slamming into her over and over again.

“Are you coming?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. I could feel the pleasure detonate inside her. “Oh, fuck, that’s a good girl. Fuck, it feels so good.” I pumped all through it, watching her writhe and squirm as she shattered. She rode it out, moans pouring from her slack mouth, and I felt more powerful than I ever had. Even as she began to recover, I kept my punishing tempo, hanging right at the edge myself. “Whose turn is it now?” I asked between ragged breaths. “Tell me. Whose turn is it?”

“Oh, God, it’s yours.”

Fuck right, it was. I came, surging into her with heat and ecstasy so great, my mind went blank. It unloaded into me like automatic fire, each bullet striking me with stinging pleasure until the magazine was spent and I collapsed on top of her.

“Goddamn fucking shit,” I groaned into the nape of her neck, and then kissed her there. My offline mind couldn’t process what was happening as my lips moved over her ear, and her cheekbone, seeking her mouth. When I found it, everything in me that wouldn’t like this went dark and shut down. My tongue stroked against hers, our lips moved together, and as our heavy breathing began to fall, we both murmured with contentment.

Sergey said Oksana had me by the short hairs, and it was probably a little true, but in this quiet, slow moment, I didn’t fucking care. It didn’t matter who actually owned who between us.

My phone rang, jarring me.

It rang again. Who the fuck was disturbing me with a call and not a text?

I lifted my head and glared at my wadded pants on the floor. Uncle Goran, probably. He preferred speaking instead of sending texts, which left a word-for-word record. And if it was my uncle, I had to answer it. I groaned, climbed off Oksana, and snatched up my pants.

It wasn’t my uncle. It was the private investigator I’d hired two months ago, and I hit the ‘accept’ button as quickly as I could.

“What do you have?” I said as a greeting.

“An address.”

A thrill cracked through me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” my PI said. “And it’s in the northwest suburbs. If you’re going to move on this, you’ll need to do it sooner rather than later. He’s moving to Florida for the winter.”

Soon wasn’t going to be a problem. I’d been waiting more than a year for this. Every day since the morning in the basement where I’d taken my father’s life. “Where is he?”

26

Oksana

Everything hurt and burned, but it also felt . . . weird. Not unpleasant. My head was a mess.

Vasilije pulled on his pants while he continued his phone call and rose from the couch, striding quickly toward the office and abandoning me. The quiet, tender kiss we’d just shared was clearly forgotten.

His voice was hushed in the other room. I could hear he was speaking, but not make out the words. Was I supposed to stay like this, lying face-down on the couch? He’d climaxed inside of me and I could feel it dripping out, so I needed to get up, but I also ached from how rough he’d been.

I moved slowly, grimacing as I got off the couch, and an angry voice boomed in my head. Why did you let him treat you like that? I wanted to ignore it, not because I didn’t have an answer, but because the truth was terrifying.


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