Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Pressing my lips against hers, I thrust too brutally for my sweet girl. With each buck of my hips, I imagine her stomach fat and swollen with a baby. I didn’t think I wanted more kids until last night. Now I wonder if she’ll let me put one after the other inside her perfect body.
“I want you to come, baby, but I love holding your throat and squeezing it. You turn so many beautiful fucking colors. Touch your pussy and come. I want you to feel how damn amazing it is when you’re on the cusp of passing out.”
Sick fuck.
That’s what I am.
But she’s a sicko too.
She rubs furiously as instructed on her needy clit. It only takes a few seconds before she detonates. I squeeze her neck a little tighter as she rides out her orgasm. The sexy choked sounds she makes are what send me over the edge.
“Fuck, baby,” I roar, grinding into her as my cock throbs out my release. “You take my cock like you were born to.”
I loosen my hold on her throat and kiss away the breathy moans she makes.
“What the fuck?”
Her mouth is on mine, but words are somehow coming out.
How?
Pulling back, I flash her a confused look. Her eyes snap to awareness and dart away from me.
I hear it again.
“What the fuck?”
It’s not Emma.
I pull out of her, cum splattering all over her red pussy, and jerk around to the sound of the voice. Standing in the doorway, eyes wide with horror and her hand over her gaping mouth is her mother.
Amara is getting an eyeful of her just-fucked daughter.
“Mom,” Emma starts, voice hoarse from the rough choking moments before. “It’s not what it looks like.”
But it is exactly what it looks like.
I broke up with Amara and immediately dragged her daughter into my bed.
I’m a fucking monster.
“You sick motherfucker,” Amara snarls, pinning me with a murderous glare. “You sick, twisted animal!”
Before I can move to cover myself or Emma, Amara loses it. She picks up the closest thing to her, my phone off the dresser, and heaves it at my head. Thankfully, she misses by a mile. Her purse, though, quickly becomes a weapon and she swings it like a battle ax.
This is bad.
“Mom, stop!”
Emma, naked and now sobbing, desperately tugs at her mother who is trying to beat me with her handbag. I could probably easily rip it away, but it feels like I sort of deserve this. If I were in her shoes, I’d be pissed too.
“Baby,” I say to Emma, but get cut off by Amara’s nails raking over my cheek.
Fucking owwww.
“You don’t speak to her!” Amara swirls on Emma and hugs her to her. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m getting you away from this monster. We’re going someplace safe.”
I shake my head, words not forming correctly.
The sobs coming from Emma are gut-wrenching. I hate that I can hear her pain. It’s loud and uncontrolled. She’s hurting because of me. Because of my inability to put a stop to the attraction that was building between us.
I’m the problem.
I slip out of bed and snatch up a pair of dirty shorts. After jerking them on, I rush past them. At least if I’m gone, they can calmly discuss things.
“Reid!” Emma wails after me. “Don’t leave!”
“Don’t ever even look at my daughter again, asshole,” Amara bellows. “Honey, look at me. I’m going to fix this.” The only way to fix it is if I’m gone.
I nearly break my neck charging down the stairs. The front door is standing wide open where Amara let herself in. As soon as I step outside, I don’t stop running until I’m at Cole’s. Their door is unlocked, and I burst inside unannounced.
More naked bodies, but two of them quickly disappear.
A very concerned Cole approaches me like an injured animal.
“You okay, man? You’re crying.”
I reach a shaky hand to my cheek. It’s wet. Fuck.
“Were you attacked?” he probes in his cop tone. “Is Emma okay?”
It’s over.
It has to be.
Emma
“She’s in here,” Mom says, tone fierce and protective. “I made sure to preserve the evidence.”
Evidence?
I can’t stop crying. Shame coats me, clogging my pores and seeping into my lungs. I’m going to suffocate on it.
Where is Reid?
Why did he leave me?
A man in uniform slowly enters the bedroom. Through bleary, burning eyes, I recognize him to be a policeman.
“Emma? I’m Sheriff McMahon. You okay?”
“Okay?” Mom hisses. “That pedophile rapist was choking her to death! Look at her neck!”
I blink rapidly, sending more hot tears racing down my cheeks. Reaching up, I touch the wet streaks on my skin. Not that long ago, everything was perfect. Beautiful and wonderful and loving.
And then it all exploded in the blink of an eye.
“Ma’am,” the sheriff says gently. “Let me talk to her, please.”
Mom huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just do your job.”