Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I anchor my hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, and slide into her.
Holding my breath, I push right up to the hilt, trying not to focus on her heat, the pressure, the way her hair falls down her back.
Her legs buckle, and I grab her hips. “No, baby. You need to be strong. Because I’m going to fuck you hard now. And you gotta stand.”
“Hunter. Please.” Her tone is sweet and pleading. I know I’ll hear her begging me to fuck her in my dreams for the rest of my life.
I’m officially toast.
I pull out slowly, then slam into her, my fingers pressing into skin, trying to keep her in place.
She feels so perfect. So soft. So warm, so incredible on my cock. I glance down and get the perfect image of my cock surrounded by her and her wet pussy. I look away. It’s too much. I drive into her over and over. It feels like we’re in a bubble of bliss. Like we’re under some kind of spell where everything is concentrated. Colors are brighter. Smells more vivid. Her sounds pitch perfect.
I gather her hair and wrap my hand around it, tugging her head back.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, thrusting forward. “So fucking tight.”
Her head tips like she doesn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.
“Hunter,” she cries out. “Hunter.”
Oh, God, my name on her lips adds an extra floor of pleasure I’ve never experienced before. Maybe it’s because I know how hard it is to impress this woman. Maybe it’s because I know she tried hard to hate me. Whatever it is, knowing she’s about two minutes away from coming on my cock, from orgasming because of what I’m doing to her, feels like I’ve been given the keys to the kingdom. It’s a high I’ve never experienced before.
“Hunter,” she screams out. “I can’t—”
She’s helpless now. I own this woman under me. She can barely talk. Barely stand.
“I’m here,” I say. “You can come. I’m here.”
She calls out and convulses under me, and I can’t help but think how she’s giving herself to me in that moment. The thought pushes me over the edge of the cliff, and I thrust into her and release at last.
My arms wrapped around her waist, I pant, trying to catch my breath, trying to keep us both upright.
My God. She. Is. Everything.
I discard the condom, then scoop her up in my arms and carry her into my bedroom.
I set her on the bed. “Do you want water?” I press a kiss on her forehead, and she blushes and shakes her head.
“What we’ve just done, and it’s a kiss on the forehead that makes you blush?”
She shrugs and reaches for me. I scoot in next to her, and we lie in each other’s arms while we recover. She draws circles on my arm with her finger, and my cock begins to lengthen. This woman could gut fish on a fishing boat in bad weather, and it would turn me on. There’s nothing about her that wouldn’t make me want to fuck her.
She eyes my erection like she’s a kid in a sweet shop. Then, with me lying next to her, she opens her legs.
I chuckle. “Again? So soon? You ready not to be able to walk tomorrow?”
“I’m ready not to be able to walk ever again if it means you’re going to fuck me.”
I groan and grab another condom.
I want to enjoy her body, suck and bite and play, but at the moment, I can’t see straight. I just need to be inside her. I need to fuck her. It’s like we’re making up for lost time or something. I have to have her.
I kneel to roll on the condom, and she shifts on the bed. I glance up, and her fingers dip down to her pussy.
I groan at her touching herself. In another lifetime, I’d be happy just to sit here and watch her. But right now, I grab her wrist and feed her fingers into my mouth, suckling them, tasting her delicious wetness.
“I want exclusive rights to make you come tonight,” I growl out.
A smile curves at the edge of her mouth. “Yes, sir.”
“Fuck, Lucy,” I curse, grabbing her thighs and pulling her toward me. “You trying to make me come before I’m even inside you?”
She presses her mouth into a thin line. “You think I could . . . sir?”
I push into her and shift so my body’s over hers. “I think you could make me come just by looking at me.”
“So I’m not a demonic witch anymore?” she asks.
I thrust into her again, and her fingernails dig into my shoulders. “May you always be a demonic witch, Lucy Jones. You don’t see me complaining.”
“If I’m a witch, you’re the devil himself,” she says on a laugh.