Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
My whole body jerks, the sting and heat ricocheting to my clit. "Blaze!" I shriek, half-laughing, half-dying because I want him so much I could explode.
"You think you can just send me rent through my boss like I'm your damn landlord?" His voice is pure gravel, and he punctuates every word with a sharp, delicious smack, alternating cheeks. "I'm not your landlord. I'm your man. And you are not paying me a goddamn dime."
"I—" I try to twist around, but his body pins me in place as he smacks my ass again. I'm so wet I can feel it cooling on my thighs. And so desperate, I could scream.
"You hear me, Calamity?" He dips two fingers between my legs, slipping them right into me. "You don't owe me anything. Not rent. Not this perfect, gorgeous, beautiful fucking body. Not a single goddamn thing."
I sob, trying to push back against him, but I can't. I'm trapped, captive to the sweet torture as he fucks me with his fingers until my knees buckle, and I bite the cushion to keep from screaming.
He makes me come twice, wringing pleasure from me like it's a holy mission, leaving me shaking and soaked and so in love with him it's a problem.
Then he flips me so I'm slung over his shoulder, dangling like a wet noodle. I'm so wrung out, I can't even protest. I just dangle, trying to breathe as he stalks down the hall to our bedroom and pins me to the bed.
His jeans are around his knees, his cock bobbing at his navel. All the moisture leaves my mouth at once. He's so beautiful, so damn beautiful.
He settles between my legs, grinding against my clit until I'm arching off the bed, trying to drag him into me.
"You want to pay me?" he snarls. "You want to trade favors with me?"
"N-no," I pant. Tears of need leak down my cheeks. "Just, please. Please—"
"You're not my tenant," he says, pushing in so slow I feel every inch, every pulse, every shudder. "You're my wife."
It takes a moment for the words to make sense, and then they strangle me. "Your what?" I gasp, clawing at his arms.
He holds my gaze as he sinks in to the hilt, and then says it again, softer this time. "You're my wife, Calamity. My whole goddamn world. Is that clear enough for you?"
I'm too busy sobbing with pleasure to say another word. All I know is the heat of his body, the way he knows me inside and out, and the way he fills me so perfectly, like we were made for this.
He says my name like it's something holy as he fucks me, pounding into me until I can't breathe. Every time I think I'm done coming, he finds another way to wreck me.
All I can do is hold on and hope I don't black out because I don't want to miss this. I don't ever want to miss a single second of this man inside me, claiming every space in my heart like it was always meant to belong to him.
By the time he finally plants himself deep, roaring my name, we're both ruined. I think we're both something new, too. Something we built together, right here in this bed with our own two hands.
He drapes himself over me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, and whispers my name over and over.
For the longest time, we stay just like that, lost in each other.
Eventually, though, he shifts us around, pulling me onto his lap. His hand shakes as he drags his jeans up high enough to fish around in his pocket.
All the breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh when he slides a ring onto my finger.
"This is what you've been driving yourself crazy looking for all week," he says, his voice uneven.
I stare at it, the diamond a blur of tears, my chest tight, my body shaking. "You really want to marry me?"
He tangles a hand in my hair, craning my head back. The way he kisses me… God, I hope he never stops kissing me just like that—like he needs my taste more than he needs oxygen. "I don't just want to marry you, Morgan Lott," he mutters. "I need to marry you."
It's the first time in my life that home feels like a person, not a place. And that person is Blaze.
I say yes again, and again, and again, sobbing it against his lips.
We're a mess. I'm a mess. But I want to keep being a mess just like this, every damn day.
The sun isn't even up when he nudges me awake in the morning, his lips against my bare shoulder. "Rise and shine, Calamity. We have somewhere to be."
"I said I'd marry you," I groan, covering my face with a pillow. "I didn't say I'd marry you at five in the morning, Blaze."