Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 169266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“Well, that would be awful.” I grin.
She rolls her eyes. I pluck the coffee cup from her hands and set it on the nightstand, ignoring her noise of protest. Then, I’m pulling the sheet away, exposing her to the morning light, and settling myself between her thighs.
“Nate—” She’s already breathless. “I’m sore. You’ve broken me in like a horse.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to her hip bone, then lower. “I’ll be gentle.”
“You don’t know how to be gentle.”
“I’m a quick learner.”
I prove it by going slow—soft licks instead of hungry devouring, gentle suction instead of desperate pressure. I worship her with my mouth, taking my time, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan and what makes her fist her hands in my hair and pull.
She comes quietly this time, a shuddering sigh rather than a scream, and I lap at her through the aftershocks until she pushes my head away.
I crawl up her body, settling my weight on top of her, my cock hard and aching against her thigh. She reaches for me, but I catch her wrist, pinning it to the pillow.
“Not yet,” I murmur.
“Why not?”
“Because I want to look at you first.”
I hold myself above her, taking her in. The flush spreading down her chest. The glazed look in her big brown eyes. The way her lips are parted, swollen, waiting.
Beautiful, I think. Fucking beautiful.
But more than that—mine. She’s in my bed, wearing my marks, still wet from my mouth. And I want more. Want to mark her deeper. Want to fill her so full of me, she can never forget who she belongs to.
The thought sends a surge of heat through my blood. I’ve always had this…thing. This urge. The need to claim, to possess, to leave some part of myself behind. With other women, I buried it, kept it locked away. But with Mia, the door is already wide open.
I want to give her everything.
I reach between us and position myself at her entrance, watching her face.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say, moving my thick tip back and forth to ready her.
She nods, her eyes never leaving mine.
I look down to where our bodies meet and push inside slowly, watching as I disappear inside her. We both groan. She’s swollen from the last while—tighter than before, gripping me like a fist—and the sensation is almost too intense to bear.
“Fuck,” I breathe, pulling out slowly, so slowly, staring at how wet my cock is.
Then, she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me back in, deeper.
I start to move, slow, deep strokes that make the bed creak and her breath hitch. Not the frantic fucking of yesterday—something more deliberate. More intentional. Like I’m trying to brand myself onto her soul.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I tell her, watching where we’re joined. “Taking my cock so well, getting it so wet.”
She moans, a deep and desperate sound, her inner walls fluttering around me.
I think about last night. About coming inside her and watching it leak out afterward. About pushing it back in with my fingers, unwilling to waste a single drop. I think about doing it again now. Filling her up. Marking her from the inside.
And then, I think about what it would mean if I could actually breed her.
The fantasy hits me like a punch to the gut. Mia, round with my child, her breasts swollen, her belly growing, everyone who sees her knowing exactly who put her in that condition. The ultimate claim. The ultimate mark.
I can’t give her that. My fucked-up engineered body made sure of it. Maybe that’s why I want it so bad, this primal, overwhelming need, and I find myself moving faster, thrusting deeper, chasing some phantom satisfaction.
“Nate—” She’s gasping now, her nails raking down my back. “Oh God, right there.”
I angle my hips to hit that spot she likes, the one that makes her eyes roll back, and feel her start to clench around me.
“That’s it, baby,” I grit out. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”
She does—crying out, convulsing, her whole body arching off the bed. The sensation triggers my own release, and I bury myself to the hilt, spilling inside her in hot, endless pulses.
The orgasm goes on forever; wave after wave, her body milking me dry, both of us clinging to each other like survivors of a shipwreck.
When it finally subsides, I collapse on top of her, careful to keep most of my weight on my forearms. She’s trembling beneath me, little aftershocks still rippling through her.
“Christ,” I manage against her neck.
“Yeah.” She swallows hard, licking her lips. “That was…”
“Too much?”
“No.” She turns her head to kiss my temple. “I’m afraid it’s never enough. You may have made a monster out of me.”
I laugh and ease out of her slowly, hissing at the sensitivity. She’s a mess—my cum leaking out of her, her thighs slick with it—and I reach down and gather it in my fingers, pushing it up along her soft thighs, until I’m shoving it back inside her where it belongs.