Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
I hear the pop of the lube. He looks from my face, then back down, and I feel—no, I know—he would never fucking hurt me. I was so wrong about how this would be with Phoenix. He is so conscious of me in this moment that my eyes try to sting again.
When his lips are back on mine with two short, quick kisses, he whispers, “I’m going to try not to be too rough, but I want to fuck you like a fucking animal right now.”
“Stop talking and fucking do it, Phoenix,” I grit out, too aroused already with the anticipation. I’m so lit up, I can’t think straight.
And then he pushes his cock inside me with a gradual depth. It has my body shaking. The pain is short-lived as he moves farther inside. He reaches the spot he’s been teasing, and I arch into him without thinking. “Fuuuck,” I moan into a coarse gasp. Fuckfuckfuck.
“Tom.” His grip tightens on my thigh. “Stay fucking still.” Phoenix bears his right forearm above my head while he pushes my leg toward my chest with the other hand, and he starts thrusting into me with a detonating speed. I am fucked—no, I am being fucked.
I hang on to his shoulder, his muscles contracting beneath my hand as he plows deeper and deeper each time. Oh my fuck. Oh my fuck. I turn my head into the pillow. My face contorts as I’m ascending a height I’ve never really reached.
It’s already too much. I’m embarrassed to say I am not in this to win this. I am in this to lose within the first five minutes.
He’s just…really fucking hot. The way he handles me, the way he wants me, the way I am giving myself to him—I’ve never really had sex like this, so completely unrestrained.
His chest is slick against mine, and his hot breath pricks my ear as he growls, “You aren’t done until I’m fucking done.”
He rocks into me to the hilt. He’s bottoming out. It feels so goddamn deep as he hits the sensitive spot on repeat, I can’t think. I can’t think. I can't fucking…I squeeze his bicep, half turned into the pillow. “Phoenix, Phoenix, Phoenix. I can’t—”
His moan melds with my sound…a sound I have never fucking made in my life. Something like a gutted cry. He strokes my cock up and down while we both come. Phoenix is whispering in my ear as I literally black out for a moment. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m surprised I’m still alive.
That was heart-attack-inducing. He’s so lucky he didn’t kill me.
He’s catching his breath above my spent, well-fucked body and gently pulling out of me. As I collect air into my lungs, it takes me a second to realize he was speaking in French. I scramble greedily for the exact words, and then I smile into a laugh as I find them.
“Mon bruit préféré,” he whispered. “Mon bruit préféré, c’est toi.”
My favorite noise.
My favorite noise is you.
“Don’t,” Phoenix pulls me away from the window. It’s been approximately five minutes since we had mind-blowing sex and created a sauna in his bedroom. Enough time to clean up a little bit, but not enough to bring the temperature down.
“Dude, it’s too hot in here. My sweat is sweating.” I reach a hand to the window’s latch, but he stops me again.
“You open that window, the whole room will smell like Pasquale’s.”
I frown. The restaurant below his apartment? “I like Italian. I have nothing against pasta.”
“I have something against burnt pepperoni. Man, did you not smell it on the way up here?”
“Uh, not really. I was mostly interested in your smell.” I watch him climb off the bed buck-naked. Okay, fucking hot. He has the second-best ass I’ve ever seen. Mine, obviously, is first-best. “You have a strong eucalyptus scent.” That I love.
He lets out a laugh. “That would be from the bundle of fresh eucalyptus hanging off the showerhead. Steffi’s many contributions to the bathroom.”
“Steffi Mendoza, as in the guitarist for Nothing Personal,” I mention.
“That’d be her.” He opens his closet from across the bed.
“Maybe not everyone in Nothing Personal sucks.” I kick down the sweaty, tangled sheets. “Just your brother.”
“Spare me from talking about my younger brother after we just fucked. Thank you.”
I grin. “It does smell good in here. Like car leather.” I look around for the source.
“Up.” He points to the air vent while he takes a skinny standing fan out of the closet. That’s when I spot a tree-shaped air freshener dangling from the vent.
I start to laugh.
“We all can’t spend a hundred bucks on reed diffusers, nepo baby.”
“No, it’s ingenious. I love it.” I lie on my chest to grab his journal off the end table. I have a few ideas already for the last song, and while I flip through the pages, he plugs in the fan, and a blissful wave of cold air kisses my skin.