Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Pulling away from his sinfully delicious mouth, I stare up at the ceiling, fighting not to let this end yet. I need more than a quick, fast orgasm to make it through tomorrow. I need a bank vault of arsenal.
Either Matteo knows this, or he’s not a man who gives up without a fight. In two quick heart-throbbing seconds, he falls to his knees, tugs my ass off the desk, pulls my panties to the side, then spears his tongue deep inside me.
I lose the fight in an instant.
As I moan Matteo’s name on repeat, my entire body convulses. My screams are neither quiet nor shy. I shout his brilliance loud enough to be heard over the bass, uncaring who hears, until my throat is raw.
Blood pulses between my legs as I fist his dark locks and pull him back toward me, mushing his mouth with my drenched pussy.
“One more,” I beg, unconcerned by his brief chuckle. “Please.”
A second climax builds fast and strong as I shamelessly grind against his face.
“Have you ever been told you’re quite bossy when an orgasm is on the line?”
“No, I haven’t been told that.” I rock against his mouth, loving every spasm his touch rewards. “But don’t act like you wouldn’t kill them just for the thought that they may know that.”
His growl sends a delicious shiver up my spine. Then his mouth is back on me, teasing, piercing, and utterly devastating. He eats me like a maniac, and my next climax hits so fast that I’m not ready for it.
Its strength and ferocity are paralyzing. I can’t stop moaning and screaming; however, Matteo’s dedication doesn’t relent. He licks, bites, and sucks at me until I’m a quivering, blubbering mess.
I’m so spent that in a quick tug, yank, and pull maneuver, he removes his cock from his pants and hovers at my opening. His dick is thick and long, covered with throbbing veins I’d give anything to run my tongue over.
My head is so paralyzed with euphoria that I only remember he can’t pound into me when I clutch his fat cock. The colors of my friendship bracelet starkly contrast with his perfectly tan dick.
“We can’t,” I blurt out, my voice still husky with arousal.
Matteo freezes with his cock nestled between my vaginal lips, the vein in his neck pulsating. “What?”
“We can’t,” I say again, my words stammering. “It’s… I…” I hate myself for how much pain my following words blister through his eyes. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”
I expect him to walk away, to growl, to do something.
I didn’t anticipate silence more maiming than any pain I’ve endured before.
After a beat, the anger I was expecting eventually comes.
Faster than I can blink, he spins me around. One hand squashes my head to the desk while the other assists in coating his shaft with the evidence of my multiple orgasms.
His aggression is a huge turn on, but I can’t give up this close to the finish line.
“Matteo… please.”
I grit my teeth, loathing the lack of conviction in my tone. I sound like I’m begging for him to take me, because in a way, I am. It would be easier to go back on my promise if I forced him to do it for me, but that would also be the coward’s route.
I’ll never be the coward these men think I am.
“Matteo, stop! We can’t do this.” I thrust against him, moaning when the broad head of his penis pierces an inch inside me. “I’m not yours to pen—”
“You’re not mine?” he asks, voice thick with fury.
When I peer back at him, something flickers across his face. It could be anger or relief, but it’s gone before I can name it.
Our combined scents waft into the air when I sheepishly shake my head. “No. I’m not.”
He mutters something under his breath, something violent and frustrated, then lunges his hips forward. Mercifully, since he’s no longer gripping the base of his penis, his engorged head slides past my clit and jabs into my stomach instead of tearing through my virginity.
A squeak escapes my lips when he punches the desk with enough force to crumble the wood under his hand before he yanks back and storms for the exit, uncaring that his dick is still hanging out.
“Matteo—”
He’s long gone before his name slips from my lips. The office door buckles under the weight of his departure, as well as my knees when he grabs a waitress’s wrist and drags her toward the exit while muttering, “You wanna fuck? Let’s fuck.”
Chapter 33
Azra
The morning of my wedding feels nothing like a wedding morning should. There’s no excitement or butterflies. There’s nothing but a hollow ache in my chest and a pounding behind my eyes that refuses to ease no matter how many deep breaths I take.
In the vanity, I stare at my reflection as the makeup artist works around me, her brushes tapping softly against my skin like she’s painting a doll instead of a person.