Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I whimper and nod because why is that so hot?
“Who do you belong to?”
“You. I belong to you.”
“Damn right you do.” He adds a third finger, and the stretch burns so good I could cry. “This pussy is mine. This arse is mine. These tits are mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, Bianca. Say it.”
“Every inch of me belongs to you.” I gasp, my walls clenching around his fingers.
“Good girl. Now let go. Come on my fingers and mouth, baby.”
He curls his fingers, finding that spot inside me, and latches back onto my clit. The combination is devastating—his fingers pumping, his mouth sucking, the hot water streaming over us—and I'm coming before I can even warn him.
“Ashland!” I scream his name, my whole body seizing, and he works me through it relentlessly. But he doesn't stop. Even as I'm still shaking from the first orgasm, he's building me toward another one.
“Can't—too much—”
“You can. You will.” His voice is merciless. “Going to make you come until you're wrecked. Until you're ruined. Until the only thing left in that pretty head is my name.”
He's ruthless, pushing me higher and higher, and when the second orgasm hits, it's even more intense than the first. I'm actually crying, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion and the sheer intensity of what he's making me feel.
“That's two,” he says, almost conversational, though his voice is wrecked. “Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”
“I can't—”
“Yes, you can. Be my good girl, Bianca. One more.”
He stands, keeping his fingers inside me, and captures my mouth in a brutal kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it should be embarrassing, but it's just hot, dirty, and perfect.
His thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight circles, and his other hand wraps around my throat again.
“Look at me,” he commands. “Eyes on me when you come.”
I force my eyes open, meeting his storm-cloud gaze, and the intimacy of it, of being seen like this, vulnerable and wrecked and completely his, pushes me over the edge again.
The third orgasm is different. Slower, deeper, rolling through me in waves that seem endless. I hold his gaze the whole time, tears streaming down my face, and something passes between us—something profound and terrifying and absolutely right.
“There she is,” he murmurs, gathering me close as I shake apart. “There's my girl.”
I'm boneless and trembling as he turns off the water with one hand while supporting me with the other. He wraps me in a towel and carries me to the bedroom, laying me down on the bed like I'm fragile.
I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he lets the towel drop. I can’t help but stare. He’s thick and long, already leaking at the tip.
He crawls over me, caging me in. “I've stretched you out nice and good. You'll take me.”
He notches himself at my entrance, and I tense. Why am I so nervous?
“Relax,” he soothes, kissing my jaw, my neck. “Trust me. I've got you.”
He pushes in slowly, so slowly, and the stretch is intense. I can feel every inch of him, thick and hard and unrelenting, filling me up until I'm gasping.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.” He groans. “Hot and tight and perfect. Made for me, weren't you?”
“Yes…” I breathe, adjusting to the fullness. “Made for you.”
He stills, giving me time to adjust, his forehead pressed to mine.
“I've dreamed about this. About being inside you. About making you mine.”
I cup his scarred face in my hands. “I'm yours. I've always been yours.”
His expression softens to raw and vulnerable, and then he's moving. Long, deep strokes hit something devastating inside me, and I'm already building toward another orgasm.
“That's it, love. Take every inch of this cock. Show me how good you can be for me.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him go deeper, and he curses.
“Not going to last,” he grits out. “You feel too fucking good.”
“Then don't.” I pull him down for a kiss. “Come inside me. Make me yours.”
He groans like I've gutted him and starts moving faster, harder, the bed frame rocking against the wall.
“Shh,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Your cousins—your aunt, your uncle…”
“No one will hear us up here.”
His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I'm coming again, clenching around him so hard he groans.
“Bianca—fuck.”
He buries himself deep and comes, and I can feel him pulsing inside me, filling me, marking me from the inside out. He’s muttering Irish endearments, my name, and words that sound like prayers.
Finally, he collapses on top of me, careful not to crush me, and I hold him tight. We're both breathing hard, damp and warm, and I've never felt more complete.
“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. “I love you so much it scares me.”
He lifts his head, and there are actual tears in his eyes. “I love you more than I knew it was possible to love another person. You've unmade me, lass. Completely fuckin’ unmade me.”