Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
"Who are you obsessed with?" he breathes, his lips against the side of my throat.
"You," I moan. "I'm so damn obsessed with you."
He bites the edge of my jaw, dragging his beard across my skin in a way that makes my whole body turn to liquid.
"Jesus, Olive," he groans, rolling his hips so his cock rides right against my clit. "You know what you do to me?"
"Tell me," I beg, gripping his hair so tight I know it has to hurt.
He answers with his hands, not words. He yanks my shirt up, breaking the front clasp of my bra with a twist, baring me to his gaze. He doesn't waste time pretending he's gentle. He just palms them and bends to suck one nipple deep into his mouth.
The wet, greedy sounds he makes turn me inside out. I arch up, rubbing myself shamelessly against the bulge in his jeans.
He moves to the other breast, biting down just hard enough to make my hips buck, and then lets go with a pop.
"I want to wreck you," he rasps. "I want to make you forget anyone who ever taught you that you couldn't trust your own judgment. You want that, Rebel?"
"Yes," I gasp, my throat tight with need. "Please, Mason. Now."
He slides a hand between my legs without preamble, yanking my shorts and panties down.
I nearly come unglued when he presses two fingers against my clit, greedy and impatient. He works me slow at first, and then faster.
My head falls back, my eyes squeezed shut as pleasure rips through me.
"Look at me," he orders.
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. His eyes are wild and hungry, so blue they look lit from within.
"Don't look away," he says, his voice low and as deep as thunder. "I want you to see exactly what you do to me."
His thumb drags over my clit in slow, deliberate figure eights. I can't think, can't breathe. I can't do shit except writhe beneath him, clinging to his biceps for dear life.
He watches me, his gaze hooded and so intense it feels like a physical force. He's not even naked, and neither am I—my shorts are still trapped around my thighs—but I feel exposed in the best way. Owned.
"You look so fucking pretty when you want to come for me, Rebel."
He presses two fingers inside me, and I nearly scream. They're so goddamn thick, so perfect. He fucks me with them, his palm angled just right to grind into my clit with every thrust.
My body bows, chasing the friction, desperate, greedy. I can't keep my eyes open, but he doesn't allow me to look away.
His free hand comes up, clamping around my jaw, his fingers still wrecking me. "Watch me, baby," he growls. "You don't get to look away until you're coming apart for me."
I whimper his name, caught in his gaze and the way he makes me feel—in the way he looks at me like I'm the only thing that matters. It's too damn soon to feel this much for him. But I feel it anyway, beating in my chest like a second heartbeat, consuming me alive.
"Mason, I…I…"
He curls his fingers up, his thumb pressing against my clit at the same time.
I detonate with a sharp cry, convulsing beneath him. Waves wrack me, dragging me under again and then again. I can't move, can't breathe. All I can do is take it as he unravels my entire world and remakes it.
He doesn't let up until I'm trembling beneath him and chanting his name, so far gone I don't know which way is up anymore.
"So beautiful," he breathes, caging me in again to kiss me. His lips are soft against mine, his kiss achingly sweet. "So fucking perfect, Rebel."
"Mason," I whisper. "Please."
"You want more?"
I want everything.
"Yes."
He tears at his jeans, dragging them down just enough to free himself. He's so hard and thick, so damn beautiful, my mouth waters.
He lifts my leg, bending it back until my knee nearly touches my own ear, then surges forward, slamming inside with a force that rips every thought from my mind.
"Mason!"
He's deep—so deep he's in my heart, my ribs, my lungs. I can't breathe, but I never want him to stop.
"Goddamn, baby," he groans. "You're so fucking tight."
I sob his name, already reeling from the pleasure of it, from the stretch and fullness and the perfection of him inside me.
He fucks me with long, relentless strokes, holding my leg high, his other hand on my jaw to keep our eyes locked.
Every time he bottoms out, I see stars. I feel myself shattering apart and rebuilding, only to start all over again on the next thrust.
He kisses me while he fucks me, stealing my cries and my sanity. All I can do is cling to his arms, my nails digging so deep I'm sure I'll leave marks.