Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
What a hypocrite I am, wanting to see all of her but hiding this shame within me.
“I should leave,” Hope says, flicking off the sheets and going to grab her clothes. I step into her path. Her breath is shaky, and she still holds the gun as she stares up at me through her glasses.
She isn’t allowed to go anywhere.
CHAPTER 37
Hope
As curious as I might’ve been about Braxton’s past, even going so far as having Ivy dig into it for me, I know I was just a witness to something I shouldn’t have seen. He shuts the door on his mother and then turns around to face me. She was at the door begging for his help, but I could tell from the tense set of his shoulders that he couldn’t stand her.
I’d read that he’d come from rough beginnings. I don’t judge it because Ford and Hawke had a similar background, but I feel like I was privy to something he hasn’t fully dealt with. We all have our own demons to face.
“No, you should stay,” he says as he stalks toward me. I take a step back, landing on the bed as his imposing size towers over me. He’s mad. Not at me, though. But that aggressive thing within him calls to my own, and I hate the fact that I want to exploit it, to have him fuck me into oblivion with that hatred if it’ll make him feel better for even a single moment. My body is more than capable of handling it. In fact, it thrives off it. And that’s the terrifying part of me. Aren’t I a terrible person for getting off on that?
He grabs my ankles and drags me across the bed, so I’m closer to him.
“I should leave. It looks like you have something you need to deal with,” I say.
He releases my ankles, and before I can say another word, his pants are gone, and he’s on his knees, spreading my legs and lowering his mouth directly between my thighs. A moan slips from my lips as I dig my fingers through his curly hair, focusing solely on the skill of his tongue. It’s as if he’s a man possessed as his finger slips inside me, and he grips my waist to pin me into place. I know I’m going to have bruises there.
I like it.
I want him to bruise me. I want him to hurt me.
And I want to hurt him in return.
My hand covers his and I whisper, “Harder.”
At first, it’s his tongue that works harder. And while that’s nice, it’s not what I want. So I grab his hand at my waist and slide it up my body to my neck. He doesn’t need me to tell him what to do from here. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. I can feel a small part of him trying to restrain himself as if he’s scared to unleash that coiled anger and pain. But I want him to feed it into me.
His hand tightens around my throat, and when my head tilts back, hitting the mattress, he pulls away completely.
“You want it rough, Shortcake?” he growls. I bite my bottom lip and nod once.
He leans forward and removes my glasses. When he places them on the bedside table, he brings back his cuffs. “How rough?” he asks. “How messy?”
“Rough. Destroy me, Braxton.”
The grin he gifts me could have been stolen from the devil’s own lips. He wraps my legs around his waist and pulls me even closer until I can feel him at the entrance of my already bruised pussy.
“Rough,” he muses.
I keep my legs wrapped around his waist as he palms my breast and then pinches my nipple before sliding his hand back up to my neck. He squeezes my throat at the same time as he takes my nipple into his mouth. He presses just the tip of his cock inside me, sliding in and then back out, rotating it around my entrance, careful not to give it all to me. He’s taunting me because he knows I’ll go feral once I have all of him.
My hand covers his where it’s still around my neck, and he applies more pressure. Then he bites down on my nipple as he thrusts into me. My nipple is on fire, but, fuck, it feels good. When he’s fully seated, he releases my nipple. and his tongue darts out to take a lick. All the while, he’s still choking me.
His hips start to move, and his hand grips me tighter. Fuck. What is he doing to me? And why do I want it and like it so much?
He moves to my other nipple, and without warning he bites that one as well. He fucks me, his hips rocking into mine, and I moan. And that’s all the encouragement he needs to start biting me all over. I know when this is done, my upper body is going to be covered, but I don’t care. I welcome it.