Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Could you now?” His voice has darkened, his grip tightening, and it takes everything in me to keep the groan of pain buried deep.
Maybe it’s not the greatest idea to provoke him when my literal dominant arm is at risk of being crippled, but if he thinks that will stop me from putting him in his place, then he doesn’t know who the fuck he’s messing with.
“Try me.” I speak so close to his face, I realize too late that his mouth is a few breaths away from mine.
And now, I’m looking at his lips, and I shouldn’t look at a guy’s lips, but I notice something—or maybe a couple of things.
Both his lips are full and perfectly molded, but the upper one is slightly pouty and lifted. He also has a well-defined dip in the middle, as if it were carved with the utmost precision.
I want to bite it.
Sink my teeth into the soft flesh, tear the skin apart, and make him bleed.
No, fuck. I don’t want to bite Marcus’s lip.
Where the fuck did that ridiculous thought come from?
I slide my gaze to his and pause, because his gray irises have nearly turned black as he also stares at my lips.
Another man is staring at, downright devouring, my mouth with his eyes, and it should make me want to jump out of my skin with disgust.
I search for feelings of disturbance but find none.
If it’s not discomfort, then what’s the reason for the heat coursing through my veins?
It’s warm tonight. That’s why—
My eyes widen when he reaches his free hand toward my mouth. I can see it in slow motion, as if time has stopped, and his hand is moving in a parallel universe.
It isn’t until it makes contact with my face, his fingers cradling my jaw, his thumb on the corner of my lip, that I realize something.
He was deliberately moving slowly, as if he didn’t want to spook me or something equally ridiculous.
“This mouth doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, does it?” He jams his thumb between my lips, forcing my jaw open as he presses down on my lower teeth.
So what do I do? I bite him, of course. My teeth clamp down on his thumb so hard, I think I’ll dislodge it.
I’m a rabid dog that way. Mess with me and you’ll go home with a missing limb.
Anyone with any morsel of sanity would pull out their hand.
Not Marcus, though.
This insane motherfucker’s face is shadowed in a dark gleam as he keeps pressing down on my teeth with the same strength I’m using to bite him.
So I try to spit his thumb out, shoving my tongue against it. In a fraction of a second, Marcus uses the slight change to yank my jaw open, then slides his middle and ring fingers inside my mouth.
This motherfucker—
I’m about to bite his fingers clean off, but he glides them all the way to the back of my throat and slams my arm above my head on the rough stone.
Nausea churns my stomach, and my eyes water. I wait for the wretched memories to flood me.
And wait.
And wait.
They don’t.
I’m too overstimulated to get stuck in my brain.
“This is what happens when you run your mouth, Preston.” He thrusts his fingers farther, angling my jaw with his thumb and index finger for a better angle. “Next time, I’ll be pumping my thick cock down this pretty throat.”
I let out a groan, trying to bite his fucking fingers off, but the way he’s stretching them inside my mouth forbids me from breathing correctly, let alone biting him.
“Shh…relax for me, baby. Don’t let the gag reflex win.”
“Fuck you…” I mumble around his fingers, but I’m not sure if he hears it.
Marcus laughs under his breath, the sound as absent as his nonexistent manners as he drives his fingers all the way to the back of my throat.
My gag reflex kicks in, but he pulls back. “Breathe slowly through your nose. Don’t choke.”
The order triggers two different feelings. The first is that I’m so going to beat the shit out of this asshole for daring to speak to me in that tone.
But the second, the one I can’t seem to understand, is making my body looser, my inhales and exhales deeper.
It’s a survival mechanism, right? My body recognizes that I need to stay alive to beat the crap out of this asshole.
That’s all.
“Good boy.” The gruff words fill my ears like a strange aphrodisiac.
A ghostly chill trails down my spine, cold and as intimate as death’s kiss.
“The feel of your hot little mouth is making me so hard, baby.” He presses his front to mine, his muscular thighs and the unmistakable bulge between them glued all over me.
Oh, fuck.
“What do we have here?” He rubs his erection against my growing one. “Looks like your cock is getting excited, too.”