Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
He nudges my legs apart and pushes his palm between my legs like he owns that part of me. Who am I to argue? He does fucking own me. He's polluted my mind so that I can only ever think of him. Only ever want him.
My hands slide up his back as I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. My breath is hot against his ear, murmuring his name. Any shame or confusion has dissipated into a haze of manic craving. I will never understand what it is about this quiet, enigmatic man that renders me completely senseless.
Ronan feels it too. This explosive link between us. All I have to do is enter his orbit, and I’m a slave to his power. I suspect that’s why he’s always avoiding me. He doesn’t want to give in to the same force.
But right now, in the darkness of my bedroom, he’s already surrendered. He’s fumbling with his belt buckle, even as he pleads with me to put an end to the madness.
“Tell me to stop,” he chokes out. “Tell me not to touch you.”
I don’t. Instead, I drag my fingers through his hair and watch him shudder.
“Take off your clothes,” I counter. “Let me feel you, Ronan.”
He ignores me, too far gone to hear or make sense of my words. He yanks my panties aside roughly and plows into me in one hard thrust. A strangled sound of shock and pleasure bleeds up from my throat, and he freezes to look down at me.
“Keep going,” I beg.
He couldn’t stop if he tried though. He’s fucking me like he’s drunk. He’s manic and out of control. Banging into me so hard it’s going to leave bruises. His eyes keep falling shut, but he’s trying to keep them open. Watching me.
He’s searching my face, but for what I can’t tell. I feel like he needs my reassurance. That he hasn’t killed me in his insanity. That he’s doing this right. I don’t know why, but there’s vulnerability in his eyes.
I stroke my fingers down the base of his neck and pull him closer. I want to kiss him. He’s never let me kiss him. I can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel, but I know once I have a taste I’ll be ruined forever.
It takes him a moment to understand what it is I want. And when I brush my lips against his, he hesitates. But it only lasts a second. A visible shudder moves through him when my breath mingles with his, and it triggers something inside of him. His fingers grip my face roughly, holding me in place as he tastes me too. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s something wild and three long years in the making. A kiss that purges the memory of all other kisses before him.
Ronan devours me with his mouth and with his body. His thrusts are erratic and out of control. I think he’s trying to be gentle, but he can’t rein himself in. His hands are cupping the back of my head, our tongues and teeth clashing with the force of our want for each other. He looks like he’s in agony. Drugged, so high on me I can’t bring myself to look away for even a second. This man’s strength is unrivaled in anyone else I’ve ever known, but right now he’s a slave to me.
It isn’t one sided. Every part of my body responds to him. To his taste and his touch. It’s chaotic and hot, the way our hips bump against each other and we can’t seem to find a comfortable medium. We’re caught up in the madness, and I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life. He’s fucking me like I’m his prize. His trophy.
And then he’s not fucking me at all. His head falls back and his entire body shakes as he lets out an agonized groan. Warmth fills me, and it surprises me. I’m not the only one.
There’s a beat of silence before Ronan pulls away awkwardly, searching my eyes again for something he doesn’t want to see. Even if it isn’t there, he’s seeking out anything he can latch onto. A reason to leave. I grab his face and pull it back to mine, mauling him with my lips.
It works. Because whatever was on his mind only a moment ago is soon forgotten as he grows inside of me again. The longer we kiss and touch and feel each other, the harder he gets. And then he’s thrusting into me, again. I kiss my way down his throat, tasting his skin and his scent. I’m moaning against him, and every time I do, a sound of relief and pleasure echoes from his own chest.
My hands find his ass and I try to pull him deeper inside of me, but he pushes my palms up to his back. I don’t question it. Ronan is different. I don’t know if something awful happened to him. I don’t know why he won’t take off his clothes or what his unspoken rules are. And I don’t want to push him past his comfort zones.