The Pact Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
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The sexual tension coiled tighter and tighter in my belly. So tight it was painful. My thighs trembled, and I fisted the rug so hard my nails bit into my palms. I wrestled back the hovering orgasm; battled it with every bit of willpower I had. Until, finally, it eased off.

Dax slid back up my body and pressed a kiss to my jaw. “All done. You did good, baby. Very, very good.” He got to his knees again and flipped me onto my stomach, startling an oof out of me. “Head down. Ass up.”

My pulse leapt, and my breathing—already uneven and choppy—kicked up even more. Resting the side of my face on the rug, I pushed up onto my knees.

“That’s it.” Each of his thumbs brushed over a spot on the globes of my ass. “Love these dimples here.” He curved a hand around my hip and inched the broad tip of his cock into my pussy.

My breath snagging in my throat, I grabbed at the rug once more. He’d better not be in the mood for soft and slow, because I didn’t—

His cock slammed deep, filling and stretching and burning my inner walls and fuck it was too much. I blew apart. Fractured into a billion tiny pieces. I didn’t know if I screamed or bucked—I was too mentally adrift on euphoria to register anything but the euphoria.

When the crazy release subsided, I melted into the rug—a mass of trembling, sweaty muscles.

“Hmm, now, isn’t that better?” He put a hand between my shoulder blades to pin me in place. “Stay down.” He sluggishly reared back, making me gasp as his dick rasped along my hypersensitive inner muscles, and then he was pounding into me.

The ride was fiercely savage. As if he’d snapped the leash on all that sexual aggression he carried. He pitched his hips forward again and again, stuffing me full over and over.

It was raw. Earthy. Feral. It would only be thanks to the hair that had tumbled around my face that I wouldn’t have rugburn on my cheek.

I would have thrown back my hips to meet each thrust if I could have moved. His hand held me down—a warm but firm and heavy weight that kept the control in his grip.

There was no slow build-up. My next release built fast, gathering in my core. My thigh muscles clenched. My pussy tightened. A shiver skated down my spine.

And then the orgasm hit.

It seemed to crackle through my bloodstream, an electric outburst of pure bliss that sent me soaring with a choked scream. I felt my pussy clamp down on his cock; felt my inner muscles tremble and spasm. Dax slammed into me one last time as jets of come splashed my inner walls.

Gasping for breath, I sagged, depleted of all energy. I had literally nothing in me.

The hand between my shoulder blades slid up to burrow in my hair as Dax curled over me and pressed a kiss to my neck. He stayed there like that, panting and shuddering. “Feel less pissed now?”

“You know, actually, my mood has remarkably improved,” I replied, my breathing a little choppy. “But then, what with your being a grade A student of Duan Juan, that was kind of inevitable.”

His body shook above mine in silent laughter. “You say the most unusual shit when you’re sex-drunk.”

“I’m just giving credit where it’s due. I was only thinking earlier that your dick would easily win a cock beauty pageant.”

A full-on chuckle rumbled out of him.

“I give the best compliments, don’t I?”

“Yes, Addison, yes, you do.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Are you going to be like this every year?”

I glanced up from the trolley of food that Dax had just wheeled into the kitchen. “Like what?” I asked him, tilting my head slightly.

Looking somewhat peeved, he replied, “Like a kid who’s on an IV of pure sugar.”

Uh, the truth? Yes. Yes, absolutely. Me plus Halloween equaled big-time regression.

Hence why I’d spent most of my day watching movies, carving pumpkins, making spooky-themed cookies, virtually touring a haunted house on my laptop, and even painting a ceramic skull like I routinely did with my sisters when younger.

I wasn’t used to celebrating Halloween alone. Dax was home, but he wasn’t keeping me company. He’d spent most of the day upstairs, leaving me to my own devices. Still, I’d enjoyed myself.

My level of excitement had kicked up a notch when the trick-or-treaters had finally started arriving—I loved seeing little ones in their costumes, all hyped up and smiley. More had showed than I’d initially expected, but fewer and fewer had appeared until eventually the numbers fizzled out even though the hour wasn’t late. But that was understandable since, being a Sunday, it was a school night.

“I did tell you I loved Halloween,” I reminded him.

“You failed to mention that you’d turn into someone I don’t know for the entire day.”


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