Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
My chest rises and falls, each breath fanning the heat pooling low in my belly. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and hit send.
My nipples are hard just thinking about how good they feel in your mouth… your tongue, on my pussy, swallowing every moan
— “What are you doing?” A deep voice growls from the darkness, freezing my fingers mid-text. My phone disappears into my pocket with the guilty speed of a child caught raiding the cookie jar.
“Hey, Hella…” I answer, my voice embarrassingly breathy and sweet, nothing like the spitfire he knows.
His eyes narrow. “Who are you texting?”
I swallow, my tongue sliding over suddenly parched lips. His jaw locks into a hard line.
“Are you fucking sexting that cocksucker?”
“What?” Horror floods my voice, hoping my cheeks aren’t beet-red. I push to my feet, nearly stumbling. God. My thighs squeeze together, a desperate attempt to quiet the insistent throbbing of my clit. Why does my body have to be such a dirty little slut?
One hand braces against the tree trunk while the other swipes at the beads of sweat that formed across my forehead.
Heat pours off him as he stalks closer, his voice dropping deadly low. “I'll ask you again.” I retreat until rough bark digs into my spine. “Were you sexting that fucker before I walked out here?” He tilts his head, menace in every line of his body. With his cap flipped backward, nothing shields me from the murderous look he has in his eyes.
“Um,” I stammer, glancing desperately around. Then clarity strikes. “Hang on a minute!” Who the fuck does he think he is?
His palms crash against the trunk, one on each side of my head, trapping me between his arms.
Shit.
“Hmm?” he probes, eyebrows arched. His soft lips hover just above mine as he whispers, “You were saying?” Electricity crackles between us, and my breathing deepens.
“No,” I lie, terror gripping at the thought of what he might do. His body presses against mine, muscled chest grazing my nipples until my eyes flutter closed. One powerful thigh pushes between my legs and after a moment's resistance, I give up, letting him in.
“Are you lying to me?” His other leg forces mine wider apart as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He grinds his cock against my stomach, and my clit throbs in jealousy, wishing it was her.
His fingers thread through my hair, twisting hard enough that my head snaps back, exposing my throat and sending a sharp ache down my scalp. His other hand traces my spine, slow, almost taunting, the air prickling cold over my skin.
He grabs my ass, fingers digging deep enough to bruise. The look in his eyes? Dark, wild hunger. Unmistakable.
A rush of anticipation coils through my body.
“You forgot one thing.” He drags his nose along mine before capturing my bottom lip between his teeth.
“And what's that?” I breathe, holding firm.
He smirks. “You're mine.”
His mouth crashes against mine, and at first, I try to fight. By God, I try to fight, but his teeth snap at my lower lip and I’m done for. My fingers curl into the short hair at his nape, nails scraping his scalp. He makes a sound—half growl, half groan—as his calloused hands dig into the soft flesh of my thighs, hoisting me up.
My back scrapes against scaled bark as he forces me deeper into the shadows, the yellow glow from the clubhouse windows catching the sweat beading on his forehead.
His knee wedges between my thighs, forcing them apart. The rough denim of his jeans catches against my skin as I rock against him, desperate for the pressure where I need it most.
He hooks one finger into my tank top, yanking until threads snap and cotton tears. Cool air pebbles my exposed skin. His breath comes hot against my chest, which makes me arch toward his mouth, my head falling back against the tree as a whimper escapes.
“Hux,” I gasp, desperation dripping from my voice.
He growls against my neck, low and possessive. “Say it again.” His voice sends shivers down my spine as his grip on my ass tightens.
“Huxley,” I moan, his name escaping my lips on a breathless whimper.
With one swift motion, he reaches into his jeans, unsheathing his rock-hard cock. His eyes lock onto mine, smoldering with lust and dominance. He grabs my ruined panties and yanks them down.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, voice dark and hungry. Obediently, I do as he says, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
He lines himself up with me, his tip teasingly brushing against my entrance.
“Good girl,” he praises before plunging deep in one thrust.
I gasp; his invasion both painful and intoxicating. Heat pools between my thighs, my inner walls clenching around him, adjusting to his girth.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans, his breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. He withdrawals, circles, and then slams back in, deeper.