Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I grin as I slowly trail my tongue over my lips before pushing up to my feet. I climb over him, straddling him on the chair as I press the blade to the base of his throat. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” I whisper, knowing my eyes are dancing the same way his are.
He doesn’t even seem to notice the blade at his throat, and I hate how attracted I am to that kind of confidence. Hate it even more that it’s getting him hard beneath me, and while I know I shouldn’t, I can’t keep from reaching down between us and pulling my thong aside, adjusting my hips and letting him slide back inside me.
We both shudder, and as I hold him at knife point, my hips get to work, taking that thick cock deep and stretching me wide. My other arm rests over his shoulder, using it to balance myself against him, and he watches me ride him.
“Just like that, my sweet devil.”
I suck in a gasp as I take exactly what I need, my walls trembling around his sheer size.
“Feel that?” he grits. “Feel the way your tight little cunt squeezes me? That’s how much you need me.”
I shake my head and press the blade against his skin a little harder, but it only seems to work him up. “I don’t need you,” I tell him. “This right here, this is a one time . . . two time deal, so enjoy it while you can, because the second I’m done riding you, I’m done.”
“Baby, you stalked me through the streets, and even after watching me murder someone, you still let me fuck you. I hate to break it to you, Lyra, but you’re not even close to being done with me. You’ve barely even started.”
I clench my jaw and slam my hand over his mouth, silencing him as I fuck him raw. “You think you’re in control,” I tell him, breathing heavily. “Even now, strapped to a chair with your cock buried inside me, you’re arrogant enough to think you’re the one pulling the strings.”
His brow arches as if to silently question me, and I keep rocking my hips, watching him crumble beneath me, and I just grin, each wild thrust of my hips driving me crazy. I don’t stop pushing, don’t stop claiming every inch of him until there’s nothing more I can give, and just when I think it can’t get any better, I explode into a million pieces, my orgasm detonating within me like a storm.
My walls shatter like glass, wildly convulsing around him, and as I reach that high, Hunter loses himself, coming right along with me, both of us gasping for air.
My hips still, and as I come down from my high, I drop my forehead against his as my hand finally falls away from his mouth. We’re both silent for a moment, each of us thoroughly spent, when his soft tone fills the air between us.
“You’re not freaking out.”
I pull back and meet his stare. “Should I be?”
He watches me for a second before slowly shaking his head. “No.”
“Okay, then,” I say, peeling myself off him and getting back to my feet, my knees shaking beneath me. I hold his stare for just a moment, and with that, I toss the kitchen knife onto the couch and make my way back to the door. “I guess I’ll see you never.”
“Woah. Hold up a second,” he says as I reach for the door. “You’re not going to free me first?”
I grin and look him over as he sits there, completely stranded with his dick out. “Sounds like a you problem,” I tell him before pulling the door wide, only as I go to walk out, I pause and look back at him one more time. “Oh, by the way, your big-ass head owes me a new frying pan.”
“What the fuck, Savage?” I hear Hunter call behind me as I stride out the door, leaving it open. “Get that fine ass back here.”
Then just as I reach my apartment, I hear a heavy sigh coming from up the hall, followed by a dejected, “Hey Siri, text Maddox.”
14
MADDOX
The text comes through while I’m trying to convince Smooch that my socks are not chew toys. The last time he swallowed one of those, I had him at the vet and was put on poop patrol, and watching a hundred pound dog take a shit isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds.
Hunter: Need help.
Need help? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? As a general rule, Hunter Cole is the help. He’s the one I call whenever I’m in trouble, and with a charming personality like mine, trouble finds me often. But for him to text asking for help, that means he’s already well and truly fucked.