Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
She grins, stepping aside to let me in. “Bribing me with wine?”
“I like it when you’re a little tipsy. You’re easier to throw around, like a little rag doll,” I say with a wink.
We don’t even make it to the couch before she’s pulling me to her, kissing me like she’s been starving for it all day.
“You’re sure Atticus is asleep?” I ask.
She nods, voice light. “Out cold.”
That’s all I need to hear.
I back her against the wall and take her mouth with mine—slow at first, just enough to make her gasp, then deeper, rougher, until I feel her melt against me. One hand fists in my shirt like she needs to hold on. The other slips under the hem, nails dragging against my stomach.
I tug her chin up and look her straight in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”
My hands slide up her thighs, gripping her ass as I lift her. She wraps around me like she’s done it a hundred times before—legs tight at my waist, mouth against my neck. I carry her through the living room, past the kitchen, up the stairs and straight into her bedroom, where I toss her onto the bed like a man done pretending he doesn’t want something.
She scrambles up onto her elbows, a coy little smirk on her juicy lips.
“You gonna take your boots off, Tractor Daddy?”
Her nickname makes me smirk for a split second. But her playfulness has a time and a place. I’m here to do some serious damage . . . of a specific variety.
“Eventually.” I was so eager to get her up here I hadn’t thought to do that.
She laughs, but it dies the second I crawl over her.
I yank the linen nightgown over her head. No bra. Perfect fucking breasts, nipples already pert. My mouth is on her a second later, kissing down her chest, dragging my tongue over soft skin, biting just enough to make her squirm.
Her hands thread into my hair, and I can feel the tension already brewing in her body, which only serves to make my cock harder than it already was.
I work the elastic waistband of her pink lace panties down, mouth following the path—kissing, biting, teasing her thighs until she’s whispering my name like a prayer.
“You wet for me already?” I slide two fingers over her slit.
She whimpers. “Hunter . . .”
“You want me to stop?”
She glares down at me. “Do you want to get punched?”
“Tiny and ferocious. I fucking love it,” I say, dark and low. “That’s my girl.”
I drag my tongue through her folds, and she arches off the mattress. I take my time—slow, deliberate licks, holding her thighs open, teasing her clit with just enough pressure to make her curse me and beg in the same breath. She grabs the pillow behind her head like it’s the only thing anchoring her.
And when I feel her about to break, when her legs start shaking and she’s whispering please, I pull away.
I watch as her eyes snap open.
“Hunter,” she pants, desperation on her warm breath. “I swear to God—”
“You’ll come when I’m inside you,” I say, standing and peeling off my shirt. “And not a second before.”
I drop my jeans, kick off my boots, and climb over her again.
“Wait.” She places a palm against my chest. “I want the boots on.”
“They’re dirty.”
“I know.” She slams her mouth against mine, nails dragging down my ribs. And that look in her eyes? It’s not just hunger. It’s trust. It’s vulnerability. It’s surrender. It’s a woman who wants me exactly the way I am.
And it’s going to be my undoing.
I waste no time sliding my feet back into my boots, lining my hips up with hers, then plunging into her with one deep thrust.
She moans—loud and guttural—and I curse under my breath before clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Fuck, you feel good, honey,” I purr into her ear. “Tight. Wet. All mine.”
A few more thrusts and she’s not just wet, she’s soaking.
I grab her wrists and pin them above her head, hips rolling slow and deep, watching her face as I drive into her again and again. Her mouth falls open. Her eyes flutter closed.
“No,” I tell her. “I want you looking at me.”
She opens her eyes and stares right into me like she’s afraid of what she might find but also afraid to disobey.
She should be.
My control slips a little when she clenches around me, gasping as I push harder, faster, until her legs are trembling and she’s whisper-crying out my name like it’s the only word she remembers.
I feel her fall apart beneath me, and that’s all it takes.
I bury myself to the hilt and release every last drop I have with a low grunt, resting my forehead against hers, still holding her hands tight above her head like letting go might wreck me.