Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
He broke away to yank the tee over my head in one rough motion. My bra barely contained my breasts. He tugged the cups down, his thumbs brushing my hard nipples until I whimpered.
“These perfect tits were made to fit my hands. And my mouth.” He dipped his head and sucked one rigid peak deep, his teeth grazing just enough to make me arch into him with a cry.
“Reeve,” I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair.
He switched to the other breast, sucking harder while his hands dropped to my butt. In one smooth lift, he boosted me up again. My legs locked around his waist as he stumbled toward the bed, never letting my nipple go until he dropped me onto the mattress with a bounce.
I giggled, breathless, but the sound died when his dark eyes raked over me. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants and stripped them off with my panties in a single yank.
“So fucking wet for me already, baby. Look at this pretty pussy.” He dropped to his knees, shoved my thighs wide, and slid his hands under my butt to lift me to his mouth.
One long lick up my slit, and he groaned like a starving man. “Tastes so goddamn good. Sweet as fuck. Gonna eat your pussy until you scream my name.”
His tongue circled my clit, then plunged inside with slow, deep strokes. I moaned, my hips bucking off the mattress. “Reeve, oh yes!”
“That’s it, baby. Ride my face. Come all over my tongue.” He feasted on me until I shattered twice, crying out his name.
When he finally let up, he ripped off his shirt and shoved his pants down. His dick sprang free, the head beaded with precome. Then he crawled over me and settled between my thighs. “Gonna stretch you so good. Fill you up until you feel every inch.”
He kissed me again while he nudged my legs wider. The broad tip of his dick bumped my entrance before he pushed in slowly, stretching me inch by inch.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, pausing when he was finally balls deep. “Even after I filled this pussy last night.”
The reminder that we hadn’t used a single condom any of the times he’d taken me should’ve freaked me out, but I was too far gone to worry about the risks we were taking.
He pulled out, then slammed back in. Clutching his shoulders, I pleaded, “More. Harder, Reeve. Please.”
What remained of his control snapped. He gripped my hips and pounded into me, balls slapping my butt with every deep thrust. “Fuck, baby. Your perfect little pussy is milking my cock.”
He hooked my legs around his waist and grabbed the headboard for leverage. Then he slammed in hard and fast, hitting spots that made stars burst behind my eyes.
“Oh yeah. Fuck, you feel incredible. Squeeze that pussy. Just like that.” He shifted, grinding against my clit with every drive.
I clenched hard around him, teetering on the edge. “So close.”
“Come all over my dick while I fill you up.”
A pinch to my clit sent me flying. I screamed his name as I shattered, pulsing around him.
He thrust deep one last time, hot spurts splashing against my inner walls. “That’s it. Take it all, baby.”
Finally spent, he collapsed half on me, rolling us to our sides while staying buried deep. “Fuck, baby. You wrecked me.”
I caught my breath, smiling against his chest. “That was…”
“Perfect,” he finished, kissing my forehead. “Just like you.”
Almost as though he felt my thoughts drift to the tattoo on my leg, his thumb brushed over my calf. When he lifted his gaze to mine, something fierce and unguarded burned in his eyes. “I’m covering this.”
His tone brooked no argument, but it was also exactly what I wanted. So I just asked, “With what?”
“Come up with a design, and I’ll put it on you myself.”
That sounded perfect to me.
14
ONYX
It started with a text.
Then another.
Then a fucking voicemail.
Each one from the same number—the one tied to Jareth Marks’s personal line. And all of them targeted Elena.
I read the latest message over her shoulder as she stood in the corner of my room, her phone clutched tightly in her hands. Her face was calm, but her jaw ticked. A thin line of tension ran down her spine, and I could see how tightly she was holding her breath, even if she didn’t realize it.
Jareth
Elena, I’m concerned. You haven’t replied to my last few messages. I need to see the sketches. Let’s meet soon. I’ll be at the Chroma Café tomorrow morning for a working critique. I’m sure we can resolve everything.
He ended it with some bullshit about being “worried” and “needing closure” on the last round of reconstruction exercises.
I wanted to rip his fucking throat out.
“Did he give you any more assignments before he sent that?”