Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Yes!” Her head tips back against the door, a hot little mewl purging from her throat.
I alternate between each one, lashing and grazing, groaning as her nails rake down my shoulders. When she rocks her hips, seeking more, I give it to her.
I drop to my knees on the filthy carpet, popping the button on her jeans. The denim clings, soaked and stubborn, but together we shove them down her thighs, panties sliding with them until she’s standing before me—bare, flushed, and glistening.
“Look at you,” I growl, fingers spreading her open. “So pink and pretty.”
A whimper breaches her lips, the breathless prayer cut short as I dive in, groaning at the very taste of her—sweet and fucking addictive.
“Oh, god!” She jerks against me, knees threatening to buckle.
I pin her tighter against the door, forcing her to take every stroke, my tongue carving a wicked path.
“Don’t stop,” she moans. “It’s so good.”
She hasn’t seen anything yet.
I slide a finger into her snug heat, burying it deep, and she goes absolutely fucking wild.
“Yes!” She curls a leg around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, yanking as she meets every lash of my tongue and thrust of my finger.
It’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s it, baby,” I groan. “Rub that sweet pussy all over my face.”
“Linc.” My name flees her lips, raw and desperate. “Please, I’m so close.”
The plea is a loaded weapon aimed straight at my heart. One hit and I’m done for.
I bear down, tongue and fingers locked on the one spot I know will tear her apart.
She breaks for me, hard.
Her cry echoes through the air as she falls apart. In my hand…in my mouth—each pulse branding me in a way I’ll never come back from.
After I’ve wrung every last drop from her, I remove my mouth, climbing to my feet.
She’s still moaning, still quaking, clinging to my shoulders like she’s afraid to let go.
I don’t give her the chance. I scoop her up, carrying her across the room.
The door fades behind us, the cheap motel bed waiting, but as I lay her out—damp hair spilling over the thin pillow, body warm and flushed—there’s nothing cheap about it. Just her. Perfect in every way.
The sight has me pausing, the weight of it pressing down.
“Now’s your chance, Harlow.” My throat works around the words, rough and strained. “Once we do this, there’s no going back. If you don’t want to go further, tell me now.”
It’s the last thing I want, but I will not be a fucking regret.
She blinks up at me, eyes flashing beneath the blinking motel sign. “Stop now, Masters, and I might actually kill you.”
The response rips through me like gasoline on an open flame.
I reach for my belt, my mouth curving, slow and wicked. “Get ready, Goldilocks. I’m about to fucking wreck you, and you’re going to love every second of it.”
The promise lands with the drop of my jeans.
Her gaze falls to the thick line of my cock, tongue flicking over her lips before she arches a perfectly shaped brow.
“Not bad,” she taunts, her voice laced with heat. “Let’s see if you live up to that filthy mouth of yours.”
Challenge fucking accepted.
I hook my hands behind her knees, giving one sharp yank, until her ass is at the edge of the mattress.
She gasps, shifting beneath my grip, but I keep her steady, spread wide.
My cock strains for that opening, heavy and aching. I slide along her wet flesh, both of us groaning at the first touch. Then, without wasting another second, I drive in deep, years of hunger unleashing in a single thrust.
The sound of our pleasure shatters through the room, marking the exact moment we’ll never come back from.
“Jesus, Harlow,” I grit, jaw locking as I fight for some semblance of control. But the feel of her—so tight, so…perfect—it’s too much, and I drop down on top of her, burying my face in the soft skin of her neck, my ability to remain upright no longer existing.
Her arms come around my shoulders, holding me close, and for a moment, we do nothing but breathe each other in, the world narrowing to just this—her, me, and the fire we couldn’t put out if we tried.
“It’s not supposed to feel like this.” Her voice breaks in my ear, shaky and raw.
I lift my head, eyes locking on hers, drowning in the whiskey and vulnerability. “Maybe it is. Maybe it was always meant to feel like this.”
I don’t need to elaborate; she knows. She’s always known.
She tries looking away, but I don’t let her. My fingers catch her jaw, holding her steady. Defiance sparks before my mouth brushes hers, gentler than my grip.
She melts into me, helpless against the pull that’s always been there.
“Face it, Harlow. We both knew this day was coming.” My voice drops against her lips, edged with certainty. “And I have no fucking doubt you ached for it every bit as much as I did.”