Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
He pushes in.
The stretch is perfect, burning, overwhelming. Inch by thick inch he sinks into me, eyes locked on mine, until he bottoms out with a groan that vibrates through both of us. I’m so full I can barely breathe. My walls flutter around him, trying to adjust, trying to take every last bit.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, forehead pressed to mine. “You feel like heaven. So tight. So fucking perfect.”
Then he starts to move.
Slow at first, deep rolls of his hips that drag against every sensitive spot inside me. I cling to his shoulders, nails digging in, moaning with every thrust. The tree bark scrapes my back but I don’t care. All I feel is him. All I feel is him filling me, stretching me, and fucking me like he’s been starving for it. His pace picks up, harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the quiet yard. One hand slides between us, thumb finding my clit and rubbing tight circles.
“Come on, baby,” he rasps against my mouth. “Let me feel you. Come on my cock like a good girl.”
The words tip me over. Pleasure crashes through me so hard my vision whites out. I cry his name, clenching around him in pulsing waves, soaking his cock, his balls, his thighs. He fucks me through it, relentless, then buries himself deep and comes with a guttural groan, pulsing hot and endless inside me.
We stay locked together, panting, trembling. His mouth finds mine again, softer this time, lazy and deep. The kiss tastes like salt and relief and the start of something neither of us can stop anymore.
I don’t want to stop.
Not ever.
SIXTEEN
OZZY
I hold her against the tree like she’s the only thing keeping me upright, my cock still buried deep inside her, pulsing with the last aftershocks. Her legs are locked around my waist, her breath hot and ragged against my neck, and all I can think is: Fuck. What did I just do?
I wanted to be better than this. I swore I would be. After everything she’s been through—the abduction, the fear, the night she woke up gasping—I told myself I’d give her safety first. Patience. Control. I was supposed to be the steady one, the one who kept his hands to himself until she was ready, until she asked. Instead I fucked her like an animal out here in the open, against rough bark, no gentleness, no slow build. Just raw need and days of pent-up hunger slamming into her until she screamed my name.
Guilt twists sharp in my gut, even as her walls are still fluttering around me, milking the last drops from my cock.
“Salem,” I rasp, voice wrecked. I ease back just enough to look at her. Her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with pleasure. She’s never looked more beautiful. Or more fragile. “Baby, I—”
She cuts me off with a soft, breathless laugh and tightens her thighs around me. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.”
I shake my head, forehead pressed to hers. “I lost it. I took you like I had no control. Out here, against a fucking tree—”
“I wanted it,” she whispers. “I needed it. Ozzy, I’ve been dying for you since the moment you climbed into that bed last night. Even longer.”
Her words sink into me, warm and dangerous, loosening the knot in my chest just a fraction. But I still hear the scrape of bark on her back when I shift. I can see the faint red marks already blooming on her skin. I slide out of her slowly, hating the loss of her heat, and lower her feet to the grass. My cum is already slipping down her inner thighs, glistening in the morning light. The sight makes my spent cock twitch again. Fucking, greedy bastard.
I scoop her up without another word, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, and carry her inside like she weighs nothing. The screen door bangs shut behind us. The house is cool and quiet, coffee still warm on the counter from earlier. I head straight for the bathroom, set her gently on the edge of the sink, and turn on the shower until steam curls around us.
She watches me with those big eyes, silently, while I strip off my sweats and T-shirt. Then I peel her clothes off her and drop them to the floor. Her body is a map I want to memorize: the faint curve of her waist, the soft swell of her breasts, the way her nipples are still tight from the cool air and my mouth. Reddened marks from my fingers on her hips. The shine of us between her legs.
I guide her under the spray first, stepping in behind her. The water sluices over her shoulders, down her back, washing away the evidence of how rough I was. I grab the soap, lather my hands, and start slowly. I do gentle circles over her shoulders, down her arms, and across the small of her back where the bark left faint scratches. She sighs, leaning into me, and the sound unravels something deep in my chest.