Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
She goes listless in my hands, her torso collapsing forward, her fingers clawing the smooth wall. “Danny.” My name is broken, cracked by pleasure. I have no desire to kiss her. To caress her skin or go slow. She’s starved the animal. I’ve starved the animal too. So there’s only one way.
I draw back and slam forward on a curled lip, moving one hand to her neck and clawing my fingers into her nape over her hair. Her scream is just what I need. My cock rolls against the walls of her pussy as I pull back, and I look down, admiring the vision of my taut shaft slick with her arousal. I clench my teeth and pound into her again, delighting in her consistent grunts that quickly roll into moans. I must be hurting her with the brutality of my advances. I smile. She’ll never admit it. Heat pricks at my skin as I admire the sight before me. I have her pinned in place like an animal. It’s carnal and inhumane.
I should do the gentlemanly thing and warn her that I’m about to let loose. I should. But I won’t. She asked for this. Hard. Fucking. The vulnerable woman in the sea who I kissed is gone. My Rose is back.
My hips buck, my control faltering for a split second, and she cries out, her forehead rolling across the wall. I move my hold from her neck to her hair to pull her head away, groaning when I catch a brief glimpse of her drowsy eyes. My veins pump harder. I’ve teased her enough, primed her enough, given her enough time to adjust to my length and girth.
Rearing back, I take in air and brace myself.
The gloves are off.
I rocket forward on a roar that could crumble the house, slamming into her wickedly, and I give her no time to prepare for the next thrust, pulling back and launching forward again. Sweat instantly beads my skin. Pleasure rapidly cripples me. Want for more takes over. I let go completely and fuck her like I’ve never fucked a woman before. Harder than I have before. Faster than I have before. With more frustration and purpose fueling me than I ever have before.
Rose’s body absorbs my blows, each drive dislodging another scream from her hoarse throat. Her hands feel around the wall for something to hold on to, her head jerking limply on her shoulders. Every time I enter her, I feel like I’m going deeper and deeper, and each time I withdraw, I feel like I could lose my mind with the desperation to get back in there. All this just makes my hips piston faster.
I’ve lost control. Blood is pounding in my ears, my hearing a whoosh of nothing, my shouts, her screams, just a distant, muffled sound. I’m out of my body, but so very much in it.
She comes before me. I feel it in the solidifying of her body, hear it in the change of pitch in her screams, and then the extended moan and the limpness of her body. Not that I need it, but it’s the invitation I want to another world.
I breathe in deep and close my eyes, letting the pleasure take over and spark, igniting the start of my release. It builds slowly at first, but when it hits my balls, it erupts, surging forward at a rate I’m not equipped to cope with. I gasp, my body folding over her back, my knees wobbling with the intensity. I’m held on the cusp for just a few painful seconds as I draw out one last time, and then sink in slowly as my cock explodes and has one hand reaching for the wall to hold me up. I snake my other around her stomach, seeing she’s struggling to remain on her feet too. My roar is suppressed. My body out of control.
I shake and tremble, staring down at her back as I fight my way through. It seems to drag out forever, the pulses of my dick going on and on. Rose is breathing heavily beneath me, creating a wave with my body as it follows the rolls of hers.
Release. Somehow, we both achieved a release, but it wasn’t enough. An angry, hate-filled fuck should have satisfied me. Sated me. And yet, I’m just empty.
Tasted heaven, but feel like hell.
I pull out on a quiet hiss and head for my bathroom, flipping on the shower. I should feel better. Relieved. I don’t. I just feel like an arsehole. My back meets the tile, and I stare into the steam, mentally beating myself up. But she asked for it. Made it that way. I flex my jaw, feeling the ache from her perfect punch. And I look down at my arm, ripping the bandage off. The cuts are weeping. Motherfucker.