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)
When he pulls his hand free, his fingers catch the faint glow of the streetlight, slick and shining. He drags the wet tips across my lips, a slow tease, before slipping them into my mouth. “Mine.”
I get what he's doing, but I wrap my tongue around his finger anyway, locking eyes with him as I suck the taste of us clean, deliberate and slow. Maybe. But I'm the one in control here.
Buckles jangle, sharp and metallic in the tight space of the car, as he yanks his belt open and shoves his jeans down. I catch his bottom lip with mine, biting down as I sink onto him, his cock filling me in one brutal stretch. Each slow roll of my hips tears at the control I see slipping in his face. God, I love watching him come undone like this. His deep thrusts grind against my G-spot with ruthless precision, tangling me in a haze of lust I don't bother fighting.
I ride him harder, desperate, aching. The car windows cloud over, our harsh breaths mixing with the creak of the seat beneath us.
“Fuck, Melissa,” he growls into my neck, teeth scraping over skin that's already too sensitive.
My head tips back as the pleasure coils tighter, threatening to swallow me whole. Each thrust spikes through me like lightning, my muscles clenching around him. I know this is what he's after — me giving in entirely — but I'm past caring.
“I hate you,” I gasp, even as my body screams the opposite.
He laughs, low and dark, his grip digging into my skin. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
I lift the heavy knife to his neck, the cold metal glinting faintly. His eyes crack open, a rumble of amusement vibrating through his chest.
“What's so funny?” The sharp edge skims over the ink on his skin, tracing up to the hard line of his jaw, etched with more tattoos.
“Cute that you thought I didn't notice you grabbing that.” His hands steer my hips, not a flicker of concern for the weapon hovering at his throat.
The steel leaves pink trails across his chest. I press harder with each pass, watching his eyes dilate, feeling his fingers dig into my hips. My sweat drips onto his cheek, mixing with the salt already there. When I bend down, our mouths collide. His breath catches. Mine stops completely.
My body moves without thought. Each time I sink down, he rises to meet me, the muscles in his stomach tightening, jaw clenched. His teeth graze my bottom lip, drawing blood I can taste.
We hang onto each other like we're drowning, the connection unbreaking until our climaxes hit together, my legs trembling, arms shaky, a sharp buzz ringing in my ears.
I slump against his chest, fighting for breath, the air heavy. When I've got enough in me to think about finding my pants, I push up and freeze, a gasp ripping out of me.
“Holy shit!” My hand flies to my mouth as horror punches through. “I cut you!” Blood seeps from the slice, fresh and real, proof of my mistake. Somewhere in that frenzy, my hold on the handle slipped.
His broad shoulders shake under me as he laughs. “No worries. Probably had it coming.”
Crimson beads along the thin cut, hellfire against his skin. “No, it's pretty bad.”
He twists the rearview mirror to check, rolling his eyes. “Not that bad. Gone by tomorrow.”
My gaze lingers on his face before dropping to the mark I've left across his collarbone. Without a thought, I lean in, pressing my lips to the wound, my tongue dragging along the bright, bitter line of blood. The metallic tang hits sharp, sparking a raw heat in my chest.
I pull back to meet his stare. His eyes churn like a winter storm, blue darkening with fresh hunger. When I try to shift off his lap, his cock nudges deep, and his hand snaps up to grip the back of my neck.
“Yeah, not gonna happen, babe.”
My hands loop around his neck again as a laugh spills out of me. Lips brushing his, I can't shake Jada's words. Maybe we do need to fuck each other out of our systems. Right now, with the taste of him still on my tongue and the heat of him still inside me, nothing else matters.
Not a single thing.
Twenty-Three
Melissa
Everything is fucking sore. I roll out of bed slowly, wincing when my muscles pinch with every movement. Hella was decent enough to actually let me sleep in my bed last night, though not without that damn possessive jab about keeping my legs shut for anyone else.
Fucking delusional. I'm pretty sure he wrecked me beyond repair just hours ago.
A sudden ding from my phone cuts through my granola munching. My chest tightens.
Fuck, I hope it's not Chase. That mess is a live wire I can't handle right now.