Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking sexy,” he grunts as he pumps his thick shaft in and out of my tight clench. “And too damn young for me. Fuck.”
I shake my head back and forth, groaning out, “I’m not too young…”
“You are,” he says firmly and grabs my breast, squeezing it in his big hand. “But I no longer care. You’re stuck with this old man.”
“Maybe you’re the one stuck with me,” I pant, struggling to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head.
“Always have to fight back, don’t ya?” he says, teeth nipping at my chin.
“Yes,” I gasp as his hips crash into my hips. My thighs tighten around his waist, trying to hold him in but he fights against it.
Pulling back, he slams back in as if to prove a point and I cry out, already teetering on the edge.
There’s just too much building inside me, too much pleasure, too much sensation.
Too much emotion.
“Good,” he grunts and starts pummeling me with his cock like he’s trying to put me through the brick. “I like it when you fight back.”
“Oh god, Alex!” I cry out, pushed over the cliff. My body locks up around him, my muscles tight, the walls of my sex convulsing around him.
“Oh, fuck,” I hear him curse. “Your little pussy is too fucking tight.”
Unable to pull out, he pushes deeper, grinding against my clit.
I explode in another wet burst of bliss, screaming and clinging to him.
A moment later he roars out so loud he nearly busts my eardrums, and then I’m being filled up with the most amazing warmth.
His hips swirl as he continues to grind himself deep, pulsing inside me as he draws the release out.
Each second, each spasm, feels more intense than the first.
“Fuck,” he groans as we sag against each other, leaning against the wall.
Seconds pass as we catch our breath and I can’t help but marvel at how good it feels to be held in his strong arms.
“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing my hair back and looking at me with concern. “I got a bit carried away. Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head and smile up at him. My throat too raw to speak right now.
“Good,” he grins back. “Let’s get cleaned up and go home.”
Home. Wow. That word just hits me in a way that I haven’t felt in a while and I have to fight back the urge to cry. Home, I have a home again.
I have a place where I belong, and I have a man who loves me.
How did I get so lucky?
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, misreading the look on my face. “I did hurt you, didn’t I?”
“No,” I croak and clear my throat. I can’t even explain what I’m feeling so I say, “I was just thinking about Muffin. She’s probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alex
Sitting outside of where Christy grew up is making me feel like some sick stalker. Especially since I’m here without her even knowing.
I don’t exactly feel good about lying to her. I told her it was a quick meetup with one of the guys from the gym. She was all too happy to let me get out of the house. The girls were playing dress up again…
Shit’s fucking messing with me.
Muffin used to be the big bad bitch in the house. Now she wears tutus and always has a different nail color. Not going to complain, though, anything my girls want they get. I guess Muffin needed a woman in the house with her.
Two nights ago, while Christy was fighting in the ring for the first time in her life, her shit of a stepbrother was blowing up her phone with texts and calls.
Fucker has a twisted sense of reality.
I couldn’t make it through all of them, but those texts and calls went from pissed off and threatening, to fucking pleading. He was incoherent through a lot of the calls, and my guess is that he was pretty drugged up.
I was tempted to delete all the shit and just block him, but that would be too much of an invasion of her privacy.
Christy is a pure soul, I think. She wants the world to be a certain way, even if it can’t be. I don’t think she has rose-colored glasses on, but her wishing the bad would just go away on its on is not going to work.
Situations like Travis are never going to go away on their own, they need a reason to go away.
I’m a pretty big fucking reason, if you ask me.
My luck must be running on high because I’ve only been waiting a few minutes before Travis pulls up to the house in his piece of shit wannabe mod car. Fuck, that thing is ugly and sounds like a pile of shit as well.