Haunted Love Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
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Scrounging up every last shred of courage, I step over the threshold to the private room, and the moment I do, the anticipation shifts into an electrifying buzz that sets my body on fire.

Despite the darkness that surrounds me, I sense him in the room. “Close the door, Little Birdy.”

Hooooly fuck.

Just the sound of those words makes something melt within me. Shivers sail down my spine, and without a second of hesitation, I close the door behind me, then remembering the small table by the entrance, I finish off the last few drops of my Cosmo and place the glass down.

“Come to me.”

Just like last time, the music is so loud that it’s nearly impossible to hear his smooth tone over the sound, but every word he speaks is as though it’s directed right into my soul. I drift toward the center of the room, taking my time. I don’t see him, but I can feel him here. The air between our bodies crackles with desire and need, and the tension builds with each step I take toward his voice.

I come to a stop when I smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and not a moment later, I feel his hand at my waist. He pulls me in hard, spinning me at the same time until my back is pressed against his bare chest. A gasp tears from my throat, and when his fingers brush across my jaw and drop to my chest, I have to remind myself how to breathe.

“What are you doing here, Birdy? What do you need?”

I swallow hard, not really sure what I need, just as long as he’s the one giving it to me, then I don’t really care. “The women in this club, they come here to explore their kinks, to push their boundaries and try things they maybe wouldn’t be brave enough to try somewhere else. But you . . .” I pant, needing to pause as I try to figure out what I’m saying. “Since last week, you have become my kink. Nothing has been able to compare to the way you touched me, and now . . . I don’t even know what I need from you, just that I need it to be you.”

A deep growl of approval rumbles through his chest as his hand dips low between my thighs. He cups my pussy through my jeans and grinds the heel of his palm against my clit, making my hips jolt as though being struck by lightning. “You need me to fill you?” he questions. “To stretch that sweet little cunt to its limits?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“To fuck you,” he continues, “hard and deep until your legs start to shake?”

I suck in a breath as his other hand skims over my trembling body. “Yes. I need you to touch me. Ruin me.”

Without warning, his hand twines into the back of my hair, and he pulls my head to the side as his hungry lips come down on my neck. His tongue roams across the sensitive skin as my knees immediately try to give out beneath me.

I groan, gripping his strong forearm and digging my nails into his skin. “Oh, God,” I moan, my eyes rolling as he continues to grind his palm against my pussy. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Patience, Sweet Bird.”

I’m losing my fucking mind, my pussy is already soaking with need, and when his hand releases my hair and skims down my body to the hem of my silk top, the anticipation intensifies. He pulls the dainty fabric over my head and drops it to the ground before reaching for my bra. He effortlessly unclips it with barely a flick of his fingers, and by the time that hits the ground, his hands are already at the waistband of my jeans, quickly working the button.

My hands start to roam, reaching up behind me and hooking my hand around the back of his neck as he works his lips across the base of my throat. I’ve never felt so alive, and he’s barely touched me yet.

He pushes my jeans down, taking my thong with them, and the second I kick them off my feet, he whips me back around and grabs me by the ass. I’m lifted into his strong arms, and my legs hook around his waist, holding on for dear life as my body molds to his.

The sweet torture of his tongue on my neck doesn’t stop as he strides across the room. He places me on the edge of something soft. It’s too wide to be a couch, and there’s no backrest, but it’s definitely not a bed. Either way, it’s deliciously comfortable as my body sinks into it.

He stands between my legs, his crotch right at the perfect height if he wanted to fuck me right here and now, only something tells me that he’s not quite ready for that yet. His hands grip my thighs, his thumbs rolling over my smooth skin as he pulls them up so that my feet rest against the cushion, keeping them spread wide.


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