Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
“I need you now,” I gasp and reach for the buttons of his leathers.
“You know what you’re saying?” he asks as I shove the fabric—and any cloth beneath—past his hips, freeing the thick length of his cock. It’s hot and hard in my hand, and the moan that rips from his lips makes me feel invincible.
“I’m asking you to fuck me.” I arch up and kiss him.
He groans, dragging my hips to the edge of the desk, then working my underwear down my legs, leaving me bare.
My pulse skyrockets. “I take the fertility suppressant.” Of course, we both do. The last thing anyone wants are little quadrant babies running around. But it’s better said than sorry.
“Same.” He grips my hips, lifting me for a better angle, and the head of his cock rubs against my clit. I gasp and his eyes lock with mine. The hunger I see etched in every tense line of his body is my undoing. I don’t care if it damns us. I need him.
No more holding back. Not anymore.
I reach between us, guiding the head of his cock to my entrance, but this position is shit. He’s considerably taller than the desk, and if I wasn’t so desperate for him, I’d laugh, but I am. I arch, but it doesn’t help. Every second we wait feels like it stretches on for a decade.
“Fucking desk,” he swears.
My thoughts exactly.
His biceps flex as he lifts me by the backs of my thighs, and I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, my dressing gown caught between us as he pivots. Our mouths meet in a ravenous kiss as my back hits the armoire, but I barely blink, too consumed with the stroke of his tongue, the feel of him between my thighs.
“Shit. Are you all right?” he asks.
“I’m fine. You won’t break me.”
He pushes inside that first, tight inch of me, and I gasp at the fit, the stretch.
“More.” I’m too busy kissing him to speak. “I need all of you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, Violet.” Whatever’s left of his control slips, and he takes me completely with one hard thrust.
I moan into the kiss. Deep. He’s so fucking deep that I feel him everywhere.
“Tell me you’re all right.” He’s already moving, thank gods.
“I’m perfect.” Better than perfect. Power blazes beneath my skin again, buzzing in wordless, frenzied demand.
“You feel so fucking good.” He slams back into me, again and again, as he sets a brutal, steady pace, his mouth sliding down my neck as his hand rises to cup my breast.
I can’t even think around the maddening pleasure as my back pounds the armoire door with every thrust, filling the room with the sound of our straining bodies and creaking wood. Every stroke is better than the last. My breaths stutter.
“Fuck, I’m never going to get enough of you, am I?” he says, his face buried in my neck as I arch into him.
“Shut up and fuck me, Riorson.” Tomorrow is soon enough for regrets.
Reaching up, I grasp the top edge of the armoire with one hand so I can rock back with more force, meeting the drive of his hips, taking him deeper, harder. He drags one of my nightgown’s straps off my shoulder, and the cool night air kisses the hardened peak of my nipple a heartbeat before his hot mouth covers it. The sensations spiral, spinning and coiling, forming a tight knot of pleasure so deep within me, the tension is sublimely unbearable.
The armoire door groans, then splinters off the hinges, and Xaden’s shadows whip out, protecting me as the frame snaps and wood crashes around us. My power flares, rising in answer to his, sizzling beneath my skin as I grab ahold of his shoulders, my mouth finding his.
There’s no stopping. We can’t stop.
“Fuck,” he curses as he takes me over and over, never stopping, turning us again so there’s cloth against my back. But it’s not the bed. It’s the curtains shoved to the side of the window.
Energy crackles again as our mouths meet, and still he drives on, winding that knot inside me painfully tighter with every movement.
And the power…it’s too much. It’s burning me, heating my blood with the need for release. “Xaden,” I cry out, simultaneously writhing yet holding on to him like he’s the only thing anchoring me to the earth.
“I’ve got you, Violet,” he promises, his breath ragged pants against my lips. “Let it out.”
Lightning whips through me, flashing so bright that my eyes slam shut. Heat flares above me as thunder cracks immediately.
And I smell smoke.
“Shit.” Xaden’s power fills the room, eclipsing what light we had, and the curtain falls, but we’re moving before the charred fabric can so much as touch my skin.
That knot of pleasure builds to a breaking point as he takes me to the floor, and finally, I have all of his weight as he drives into me. Shadows fall away and the sight of him above me, his dark gaze locked on mine in intense concentration, is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.