Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
I slip my hand between her legs, growling when I find her soaked for me already.
"Stone!" she shouts, arching up.
"You want me again, angel?" I ask, fucking her hard and fast with two fingers. "You want to come all over me?"
"Yes! Please, please," she sobs, choking on the words. She's already so sensitive, so desperate, that it takes almost nothing to have her on the edge, her eyes glossy and unfocused, her mouth working soundlessly. I haul her closer, grinding my cock into the heat of her thigh as I fuck her with my fingers. With my other hand, I fumble my fly open, not caring how needy I look. I want her to see it. I want her to know exactly what she does to me.
My cock springs free, hard and angry and leaking for her, the tip painting pre-cum across my knuckles as I stroke it.
She looks down, sees what I'm doing to myself, what I'm about to do to her, and whimpers. The sound is pure surrender.
"Look at me," I rasp. "Look at the way I want you. You see this?"
She nods, her entire body a trembling mess.
"This is what you do to me, Seraphina. This is what I am for you." I line myself up, hauling her hips forward until the head of my cock is at her entrance, and then I slam her down on me in one rough, perfect thrust.
She screams, her whole body going rigid as I fill her to the fucking hilt, her walls squeezing so tight around me I lose my mind for a second.
"Stone!" she sobs, the sound echoing in the little entryway, her hands fisted in my hair.
"That's right, angel," I snarl, fucking up into her, not caring if I leave bruises on her hips from how hard I'm holding her. "This is what you need, isn't it? My cock. My hands. My mouth."
She just whimpers, her head lolling back against the door.
I pound into her, relentless. The only thing she can do is hang on and take it.
Everything out there—work, rules, all the reasons we shouldn't—melts away until there's only the drag of her nail down my neck, the bruises I'm stamping on her hips, and the perfect way her pussy chokes my cock.
"Stone," she whimpers, a broken, desperate sound.
"That's right, angel, say my name. Beg for it." I slam her harder against the door, loving the way she gives me everything, loving the flushed, wild look in her eyes. "You know what I think about every time you look at me? Every time you stutter or stumble or blush?"
She shakes her head, barely hanging on.
"I think about this," I growl against her ear. "I think about your sweet pussy squeezing around me, about making you beg for it. I think about bending you over every surface in my office until you can't walk straight. I think about tying you up with your own goddamn pantyhose and making you scream my name so loud everyone hears you." I nip her throat, driving her down on me. "So loud they all know you're mine."
She shatters, her voice breaking on my name. Her pussy clamps down on my cock in a hot, rippling vise. The sound she makes is nothing short of worship, a desperate, keening wail that seems to burn in my chest and light up every place inside me.
I lose it.
I slam her down on me with a roar, coming so hard I can't breathe. My head drops to her shoulder as I empty myself inside her, my legs shaking.
The world narrows to this—her smell, her heat, the urgent press of her nails in my neck. It's still not enough for me.
I hold her, fucking her through her orgasm, refusing to let her go until she's wrung out and boneless in my arms.
"Stone," she whimpers as she finally goes limp in my arms. "Stone."
We stay locked together in the entryway, her body trembling against me, my hands splayed over her hips, holding her in place like the whole universe might fall apart if I let her go.
I think maybe it might.
That's how badly I need her.
That's how completely she has me.
Chapter Seven
Seraphina
"Do you miss playing football?" I ask, reaching out to trace the surgical scar across Stone's knee. We're snuggled in my bed, our legs tangled together, while he feeds me bites of the pasta he made after he bathed me.
I feel like I'm living in an alternate dimension again. Only, there's no panic this time. There's only the absolute certainty that this grouchy, incredible man is every single one of my dreams, live and in living color. He's softer, sweeter, and more open than he's ever been. I can't get enough of this side of him. I don't think many people get to see it.
I love that I do…that he wants me to know the pieces of him that he holds in reserve.