Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
I cry out against his mouth at the sweet burn, writhing beneath him. It doesn't really hurt. The tiny bite of pain weaving through the pleasure adds an edge that I like a little too much. He feels so damn good, like he was made for me.
"Fuck. You're so goddamn tight, Isla," he groans, pulling back slightly before rocking forward another inch.
My inner muscles clench around him.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, shuddering on top of me. His cock pulses inside me, and then I feel liquid heat splashing inside me as he comes, unable to hold back.
I moan loudly, my walls fluttering around him.
"Christ, I'm sorry," he grunts. "Feeling you wrapped around me has me so fucking worked up. I couldn't hold it off, little bird."
"It's kind of hot, Brantley," I whisper, raking my nails down his back. "I think I like knowing you're so worked up you just can't help yourself."
He groans again, a broken sound, and then kisses me hard, thrusting forward another inch. I gasp against his lips, earning a breathless chuckle from him.
"What? You thought I was done with you? Hell no, baby." He rocks his hips, driving himself deeper. "I'm just getting started. That was just me relieving the pressure. Now, the fun can begin." As if to illustrate his point, he withdraws until just the head of his cock remains inside me, and then slams himself back inside me.
I shout his name as a powerful blast of pleasure rips through me. He chuckles and does it again, and then again. Each thrust hits something deep inside, some hidden spot I didn't know existed. Stars erupt behind my eyelids again and again.
"Brantley," I sob, clawing his shoulders.
"That's it, little bird," he growls. "Take my cock. Let me ruin you for anyone else."
I think he already has. I'm pretty sure he did that before he was ever inside me. Ruined me. Unmade me. Made me fall for him. It's way too damn fast. And yet...it feels completely inevitable too.
He picks up speed, driving into me harder, deeper as he dips his head, wrapping his lips around my nipple again. He rakes his teeth over the hard bud, and I sob his name, lava sliding through my veins in an avalanche.
"I want to feel you coming all over me, Isla," he groans against my skin. "Milk my cock dry, baby."
He shifts the angle of his hips, grinding his pelvis against my clit with each powerful thrust. It's too much, the pleasure too intense.
"Brantley, oh god," I moan, digging my nails into his back as the coil inside me snaps, scattering me to the winds. Euphoria crashes over me, drowning me in bliss. I thrash beneath him, sobbing and babbling, pleading for more.
He flips us so I'm on top of him, lifting me up and down his cock with his hands around my waist. He's so much deeper this way.
"Christ, I could fuck you like this all night," he groans, releasing my waist to grab my ass. He grips my cheeks, spreading them as he bounces me on his cock. "That's what I want to do. Just keep you stuffed full of my cock and cum until you forget your own name."
"Brantley!" My voice breaks as his filthy words send me flying again. I shatter apart around him, coming hard.
He growls a curse, slamming me down on him. He holds me there, roaring as his cock jerks inside me and he comes too, spilling into me in a liquid rush. My name rumbles from his lips in a broken chant, his body trembling beneath mine.
I collapse on top of him, pressing my lips to his chest with a soft moan. I feel his heart thundering against them, pounding like a war drum.
"Never moving again," he whispers, wrapping his arms around me with a sigh. "Gonna stay right here with you."
My heart turns over in my chest, entire sections of it lighting up with his name. God, it's way too soon to be falling for this man. And yet...that's precisely what's happening here. I'm falling for him—every single broken piece of him—hard.
Chapter Five
Brantley
"Hey, Ma." I stoop, quickly kissing my mother on the cheek early the next morning. She's curled up in her favorite chair, her gray hair up in a bun, her feet up on a footstool, staring out at the garden with a cup of coffee in her hands.
"Brant! You're here!" She beams up at me, her eyes bright with relief. She doesn't try to kiss me back though. Even my own mother can't fucking touch me without panic gripping me by the throat. I know it breaks her heart, but she's never once let it show. She's never once blamed me.
"Told you I'd be here, didn't I?" I shake my head at her. Sometimes, I think she's convinced I'm no more trustworthy than the bastard she married. But unlike him, I've never lied to her. Even when I probably should have hidden the truth, I was honest. I caused her more grief than she ever deserved. I regret the hell out of it.