Claim Me Forever (Time River #3) Read Online A.L. Jackson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Time River Series by A.L. Jackson
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Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
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Aqua eyes pinned me to the spot, and her back arched as she whimpered and drove the toy deeper. “This is what you did to me, Ezra. With that kiss. With those hands. With those eyes. With your care. You made me need something I know better than needing.”

Dangerous.

And I was the fool who stepped the rest of the way into her room.

THIRTY

SAVANNAH

I was just begging for the heartbreak, but right then, I couldn’t find one molecule inside myself to care.

Not when Ezra stepped from the doorway and into the room as I continued to thrust my toy into my body.

He didn’t hesitate to reach to the back of his neck so he could drag his tee over his head.

I went dizzy from the loss of air.

The man was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen, and I thought I finally understood what being awestruck really meant.

He was a mountain of strength and bristling muscle. A tower that cast a cover of protection over the room.

His shoulders were broad and his chest was wide, and his abdomen was cut in all these grooved, defined ridges that I had the urge to trace with my tongue. His jeans hugged his narrowed waist, and his hip bones jutted out like they were begging for a little of my attention, too.

His skin was sun-kissed and unmarred save for the single tattoo he had imprinted on his left pec.

It was a shattered clock that was kept from falling by butterfly wings, though pieces of the fractured glass fell away at the bottom. There was a green feminine eye in the middle, written there like her soul would for all of time watch over him.

The jagged, gnarled hands were stuck at three twenty-two.

The art was beautiful. Breathtaking. It was also so heartbreaking that I wanted to weep.

I desperately tried to keep it from stinging because I was one-thousand percent certain of what that time stamp meant.

I needed to end this. Stop it before we really got started because it had never been so glaring that I was going to get my heart wrecked. My brain understood it, but my spirit flailed in reproach and my body rejected it altogether.

He took another step deeper into the room.

Energy crashed.

Ricocheting.

Inciting.

He came to stand at the end of the bed, the massive, unrelenting height of him covering me in shadow.

“Look at you, Little Trespasser. Sneaking into all the places I’m not supposed to let you go.” His voice was rough and low, and a moan got free at his confession, at the heat of his gaze as he watched me.

I drove my rabbit harder and faster, the buzz humming in the air and the vibrations rocking through my body.

Ezra set one knee on the bed, then the other, and he rose up on them high above me.

Warm brown eyes had gone molten as he stared down.

The man pure heat.

An inferno.

Fire.

It flamed up my legs when he took me by both knees, and he spread me farther, his attention locked on where I thrust the vibrator deep.

“So fucking wet.”

An incredulous laugh got free. “One look at you, and I’m soaked, Ezra. Every time. I can’t help it. Can’t stop it.”

Those eyes flicked up to meet my face, and his jaw clenched in steely restraint. “How many times have you fucked yourself thinking about me, Savannah?”

Apparently, we weren’t trying to hide this attraction any longer. I didn’t know what I’d expected when I’d confessed what I was doing, needing him to know that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him once through the entire week.

Maybe admitting it had felt safe behind the text. As if it wasn’t real. Another barrier separating us.

But this?

I was no longer safe or hidden behind the wall I’d tried to keep erected between us.

I was here, laid out in front of him like an offering.

And God, how desperately I wanted him to take me.

“Nonstop since that kiss. I can’t—” I clipped off the admission that I was never fully sated. That I always felt like I was going to burst because a fantasy was never going to be enough.

“I could barely work this week, thinking about you.” His words were a grumble. “Spent half of it with my cock in my hand, thinking about you on your knees in front of me, wondering just how good this mouth would feel. But I never allowed myself to fully imagine this. How fucking perfect you would be.”

He reached out and pushed two fingers deep into my mouth, making me suck. I whimpered around him, overcome, overtaken.

Then I gasped when I was ripped from where I’d been propped against the headboard and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. My arms flew out to steady myself, curling around his neck, which was hysterical since I’d never been on such unstable ground than I was right then.


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