Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“This is where you belong.”
The orgasm rips through me, stealing my breath and temporarily blinding me with its intensity. It takes a full minute for my racing heart to calm and my senses to return, and Madden guides me through it by grounding me with his touch. His rough palms move over my skin, flooding my entire body with goose bumps as he massages me. It feels so amazing I could die happy right now. But when he kisses my throat, it stirs a primal need to claim him, too.
When I open my eyes, he meets my gaze with a dark, hungry stare. I can just imagine how I must look right now. Hair wrecked, skin flushed, no makeup. But he’s not complaining. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen anything he wanted more in his life. It does something inexplicable to my heart, and I’m certain he can see it on my face.
I reach behind me and grab his cock through his briefs, stroking him through the material. He lets me play with him for a total of five seconds before he’s got me on my back, his body dominating mine. And I can’t help but stare at him— a pillar of power and strength. He’s so much bigger than me. He can toss me around, fuck me hard, and make me feel him in every possible way… but somehow, I know he’d never hurt me. In his sanctuary, I am small but safe. Always safe.
My chest squeezes as I grab his face and bring his lips to mine. He grunts as we collide and yanks down his briefs before he spreads my legs wider to accommodate him. I’m still devouring his mouth when he sinks his cock deep inside me, and he swallows the sounds that bleed up my throat.
“Please, Madden,” I murmur against his lips.
I don’t have to ask him twice. He fucks me like a man starved, and it goes to my head a little. The notion that so many women would probably sell their souls to have one night with this god among men, yet he’s here with me. Inside me. Worshipping my body like it’s all he could ever want or need. The impact of that realization makes me dizzy, and as his muscles draw tighter with every powerful thrust, it gets me so worked up I can’t hold back.
He watches me watch him, taking note of the warmth in my eyes, the pause of breath between my lips, and he proves again who owns my body. He fucks me into the bed and reaches down between us to rub my clit until I give him what we both want.
“You are mine, baby,” he reminds me with a growl as I come for him all over again.
“Yes,” I pant.
He grabs my face and holds my gaze as he bottoms out and comes inside me. We have nothing between us, and we’re both hyperaware of it. When I search his eyes, I can see that not only does he not care but he’s already thinking about doing it again.
It sends another wave of mini convulsions through me as I squeeze around him, trying to milk every last drop. I want it all. I want him inside me, a part of me forever. No take backs.
He collapses onto his forearms, settling his face against my chest, and I stroke his hair while he softens inside me. He continues to rock into me slowly, drawing it out until, eventually, he falls into stillness. We stay like that for a while, but when he leans up to kiss me again, our kissing unavoidably turns to groping.
He drags his cock out of me and uses his come to finger me to my third orgasm. And when he fucks me again after that, it feels like time has stopped. Neither of us wants it to end, but inevitably, it does when he thrusts as deep as my body can take him, releasing his cock inside me for a second time.
I’m sore and exhausted when he leads me to the shower. We’re both quiet as he washes me, but it’s a comfortable silence. His hands communicate everything I need to know as he takes care of me. And when he’s done, I help him wash too, taking my time to inspect his body and all his tattoos. His club moniker is inked on his forearm, a snake curves low over his hip, and there are a few script tattoos dotted along his chest. On his back, I find more artwork incorporating roses, an eagle and anchor emblem, and a memorial dog tag inscribed with the name “Wyatt”. But farther up on the base of his neck, I find the one I’ve seen peeking out from beneath his tee shirts at times. The one I know without a doubt is for her.