Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
He broke the kiss just long enough to yank my sweatshirt over my head. Then his mouth was on my throat, my collarbone, and the upper curve of my breast. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make me gasp. His free hand worked my sleep shorts and panties down my legs. I kicked them off the rest of the way, praying he didn’t slow down.
He took half a step back, his belt buckle clinked as he undid it, his jeans were shoved down just far enough to free his cock, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at the thick, heavy length. God… he was already leaking at the tip.
Ryder wrapped one big hand around himself and stroked once, then twice, smearing the pre-cum over the flushed head before shifting closer and dragging it through my soaked folds.
“Fuck, look at this pussy,” he muttered, voice rough. “Already drippin’ for me.”
He rubbed the head of his cock up and down my pussy, coating himself in me, teasing my clit with every pass until I was shamelessly whimpering. He notched himself at my entrance and pushed in with a quick thrust. His thick head stretched me open, sinking deep until he was buried to the hilt. All I could feel was him throbbing inside of me.
A loud, broken moan tore out of my throat when I realized Ryder wasn’t giving me time to adjust. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, hard enough to rock me against the cabinets. One hand held my hip in a bruising grip, but God, I loved it even more. The pain mixed with pleasure, my pussy so wet I could hear the sucking sound Ryder’s cock made with every pump of his hips in and out. His other hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back so he could watch my face while he fucked me.
“Cunt’s mine,” he growled against my mouth. “Been mine since before you even knew it, darlin’.”
He sounded like a wild animal, all feral and dominating and claiming what was his. Me.
“Say it.”
“Yours—”
“Louder.”
“I’m yours,” I cried out, moaning when he hit something deep inside me that rolled my eyes rolling back in my head.
He drove into me harder, deeper, and the wet sound of his cock slamming into my pussy was filthy and perfect all in the same breath. I should have been disgusted with myself, that I was letting Ryder fuck me after all he admitted. But the truth was… I was addicted to him, and the thought of not letting him claim me sounded like the worst possible pain.
Every thrust kept dragging against that spot, my vision blurred, my body tingled. My pussy stretched around his huge cock, completely filled, completely perfect. And God… the base of his cock ground against my clit every time he bottomed out until I thought I’d die of pleasure right then.
“Fuck, Lila. You’re takin’ me so deep. This tight little pussy was made for my cock and only mine.”
I came hard after that, clenching around him, crying out as the orgasm ripped through me and stole my sanity. But Ryder didn’t stop. He kept fucking me through it until he was chasing his own release, until his rhythm broke and he buried himself as deep as he could with a guttural groan and filled me up.
I felt every hot pulse as he came inside me until his cum started to leak out around his cock and slide down the crease of my ass to make a mess on the counter. Even after his body stopped jerking and shaking, he stayed buried inside of me, forehead pressed to mine, and breathing hard like he’d run a marathon.
“I’m not leavin’,” he said against my mouth. “And neither are you. Not until you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me.” He pulled back, gripped my chin gently so I was forced to keep eye-contact, and waited for me to say the words.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.
My hands were still fisted in his shirt, my legs still locked around his waist. My pussy still intermittently clenched and relaxed around his still semi-hard cock, but the only thing I could feel was the heavy, obsessive weight of everything he’d done for me…
And the terrifying knowledge that I didn’t want any of it taken back.
15
We stayed like that for a long time—me sitting on the kitchen counter and Ryder still buried inside me. We were both breathing hard against each other’s mouths, and I was still riding that euphoria high.
His hands were still locked on my hips like he was afraid I might try to disappear the second he let go, but I had no plans to run. Not now. Not ever.