Blood & Bones – Judge Read online Jeanne St. James (Blood Fury MC #3)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Blood Fury MC Series by Jeanne St. James
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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The pulse in her throat pounded as hard as the pulse in his dick. He needed her naked. He wanted her to plaster her palms against the door, tip her ass out and wanted to take her hard and fast from behind.

But that’s not what he did.

Instead, he ran his lips over that pulse, feeling it speed up even more.

He jerked up the bulky sweatshirt she wore, which did nothing for her curves, to find her wearing some bullshit sports bra. Something that crushed her tits to her chest. He yanked one side up and snagged her peaked nipple between his fingers and twisted it until she whimpered. Her throat moved under his mouth as he drug it across her delicate skin up to behind her ear. After sucking on her earlobe for a few seconds, he caught it between his teeth, just biting it hard enough for her to feel it.

He did not miss the shiver that shot through her, which made him smile.

Releasing her hair, he gathered her wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, pinning them to the door. He took her mouth, sucking her bottom lip, scraping his teeth over it, then exploring inside.

He captured her groan, shoved her sweatshirt and sports bra up farther, seizing the other nipple and rolling it between his fingers until it was diamond hard and she squirmed against him. Then gripping it tighter, he twisted it until he knew it would cause a sharp pain.

Like her groan, he caught her gasp and tangled his tongue with hers, not letting her take control of the kiss.

He kissed her harder, drove his tongue deeper, releasing her nipple, sliding his hand down her stomach and into the loose cotton pants she wore. Again, something that did nothing for her curves but hide them.

He hated that.

She needed to show off how fucking luscious she was. Her hips, her ass. Those tits.

He knew what she was hiding under those baggy clothes. He’d seen it. He planned on seeing it again.

He planned on seeing it a lot.

He only hoped Cassie wanted the same thing as he did.

His goal was to find Lange to scrape Cassie clean of him. To let her move on.

No matter what, he wanted to help her.

And, yeah, he was also being selfish. Because he wanted what Lange held onto legally.

But Judge wanted her free and clear. No piece of her still belonging to another man.

He wanted all of her to be his.

It was fucking crazy.

There were plenty of women who didn’t have baggage. An ex, who wasn’t an ex yet. A kid with that ex. And one financially broke because of that ex.

But none of that mattered to him.

The only thing that did was the ex. The rest he could live with.

He would do his best to deal with Lange and then help her deal with the rest.

Why he gave a fuck...?

When his hand slipped into those loose cotton pants and through the dark blonde wiry hairs until he found her clit, she whimpered again in his mouth, driving her tongue more frantically against his. He pressed, circled and teased it before sliding his middle finger lower to test how wet she was. His answer? Very fucking wet.

He didn’t give a fuck because he wanted to fuck her. He gave a fuck because he wanted her.

Her body bowed away from the door, but his knee kept her open to him, his hand kept her and her wrists against the door.

Slick. Hot. Soft.

He wanted to shove his face there, lose himself in her scent, lose himself with the sounds she made, the reactions to his actions.

He wanted to hear her call him Judd. Because when she did, she herself was lost. With what he was doing to her.

And affecting her in that way affected him.

How she had burrowed so quickly under his skin in such a short amount of time, he didn’t know.

Did it bother him? It did and it didn’t.

It did if he was just a dick to ride. It didn’t if he could be more.

In all of his thirty-seven fucking years, he never wanted more from a woman. Not once.

Not even Ry’s mother.

Not even her.

And that had become a problem.

He shoved his past out of his head and concentrated on the now. On the woman he had pinned against the door, who was encouraging him with the noises he muffled with his own mouth, with the responses to his touch.

He slipped a second finger inside of her, and she bucked against him as he didn’t let up, not for a second.

His hard-on was throbbing, his brain urging him to just take her. But this orgasm was for her. Not him. Her.

His thumb circled her clit and she ground against his fingers, trying to break free of his kiss, but he didn’t let her go.


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