Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
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“Stop fighting it, princess, and let go.” His tongue stroked and caressed over her clit for a couple of moments and then flicked hard. “Your pussy tastes just like lavender honey. Fuckin’ amazing. I’ll never get enough.”

His mouth was covering her slit and clit again, and he was using his teeth and fingers as well as his tongue. He knew what he was doing. Ambrie pushed deeper into his mouth, rocking her hips as the pressure built so fast she thought she might detonate and be completely destroyed. Nothing could be that intense and not kill you.

He growled again, like a feral animal, attacking with a ferocity that was terrifying even as it was amazing and beyond intense.

“Ambrielle. Fucking let go.”

If she did, if she surrendered, it might be the last thing she ever did. Who cared? She had no choice. If she didn’t, she might not survive. As it was, she knew she would never be the same. She would never be Ambrie without wanting this from Master. He thumped and flicked her clit, his mouth relentless.

She came apart, just as she knew she would, an explosion that took everything she was, shattering her into little pieces like broken glass. He made those animal sounds as he lapped up every bit of the liquid pleasure pouring out of her. He sucked and licked, bit and tugged until he swallowed her down, taking everything she was or had ever been. Her legs threatened to crumble out from under her and would have, if he hadn’t wrapped his arms firmly around her hips, wiping his face on her thighs, making soothing noises as he rose up behind her like a giant, all that hard muscle sliding against her skin.

“You did good, perfect, little princess,” he praised, his hand stroking her back, rubbing her buttocks.

Her entire body trembled as aftershocks hit, nearly as strong as the orgasm he’d given her. His hand kneading and rubbing her left cheek only added to her overstimulated nerve endings, and her sex clenched hard, wringing another cry out of her.

Master laughed. “That’s my girl. That’s what we want. You want to be nice and slick for me. So ready.”

Ambrielle didn’t know how she could be more ready. She tried to turn around, but he caught her around the waist and lifted her almost like a rag doll, as if she didn’t weigh anything at all. The bed was close, and he simply dropped her in the middle of it on her back and went down over her, his knee between her legs.

“You have great tits, babe. Noticed first thing. Gorgeous. Impossible to hide even in the middle of a gunfight.” His eyes were fixed on her breasts, his large hands covering them. Squeezing. Kneading. He was completely focused, although his thigh was pushed high, deliberately rubbing her oversensitized clit so that she found herself riding his thigh, her body coiling tight again despite her belief it was impossible.

She wanted more. Even needed more. Her breath was coming in rapid, sawing, ragged pants. His mouth was on her left breast, a tight suction, a fiery flame, tongue and teeth almost painful, and yet every flick sent lightning straight to her swollen, needy clit. His thumb and finger on her right nipple were merciless, tugging and rolling, even pinching that little bit too hard, so that she wanted to squirm away but found herself arching into him, needing more, tears in her eyes as more lightning strikes added to the delicious chaos happening to her body.

It occurred to her that he was far too experienced for her, and she might want everything he could give her, but she wasn’t as ready for his brand of sex as she might want to be. She just didn’t want to think—and it was impossible to think when he kept her body raging with need—he was that perfect. He gave her exactly what she needed.

Ambrielle felt the hottest, sexiest, velvet-over-steel cockhead push into her entrance, and her heart accelerated. Fresh welcoming liquid surrounded him, and his hands slid from her breasts to her thighs, parting them farther, fingers biting deep.

“That’s my princess,” he murmured, focusing intently on where they were joining together.

She couldn’t help looking at his face. Every line was carved with pure sensuality. Deep. It was sexy as hell. Carnal. A little bit terrifying. His chest was thick and heavily muscled, covered in scars. Deep ones, shallow ones. Knife and bullet scars. Scars from whips. Tattoos covered his chest and followed his amazing road map of muscles straight to his narrow hips and down farther.

Her breath caught in her throat. “No way in hell. No way.” She whispered the edict aloud, staring at the monster trying to invade her.

The moment she caught sight of his cock, and she wasn’t certain whether or not one could actually call his cock a weapon, her body reacted with a flood of hot liquid. Her heart pounded in both trepidation and a thrill beyond her comprehension. Her tongue moistened her lips and she found herself widening her thighs, pushing her body onto that impossibly thick and long monster.


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