Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Why?” I whisper, choking on the word, afraid of the answer.
He stares at me, all fury and beauty. There’s so much yearning and hate in those eyes. I feel the same way. I despise my husband for doing this to me. For acting like it’s my fault he’s a crazy person. But hating myself for liking it.
There’s no answer that’ll satisfy me. I think we both know that. The unspoken hangs between us. He’s my ghost. He’s been my ghost for seven years. I don’t understand it. Every time I try, it’s like my head gets overwhelmed.
“My job normally makes me feel something,” he whispers, ignoring my question. I’m relieved and desperate. “But tonight, it didn’t work.”
“Sorry your murder didn’t bring you joy.”
“It’s fucked.” His fist grips my hair. I whimper, fear lancing into my core, mixing with primal desire. “I’m so deeply fucked, feather.”
“What are you doing?”
He crushes his mouth to mine. I have a split second to decide what I’ll do.
Scream and fight, thrash and kick, try to get away.
Or surrender.
His mouth tastes so damn good. It’s like that smell I love so much. Memory assaults me and desire overwhelms every inch of my body. I should bite his tongue off. I should knee him in that huge fucking dick of his.
Instead, I kiss him back, reckless and stupid with how badly I want this.
His mouth is wild and brazen. His tongue presses against mine, devouring and dominating. I moan, grinding against him, breathless and dizzy. He scares the ever-loving shit out of me but he also makes me want to strip down and give myself over to his animalistic desires. I’ve never hated someone so much while wanting to fuck them to death at the same time.
It’s ugly and wrong. It’s all the sin I should hate. But it feels so fucking good.
He pushes me back against the bed. His towel falls off. His cock is hard, stiff like iron, throbbing. The head is thick and gorgeous. I moan in shock as he pins me down and roughly tears off my sleep shorts, throwing them aside. Leaving me bare on the bottom.
He groans with pure pleasure.
“No fucking panties,” he breathes, sucking in air as his fingers trail down my belly and over my hips.
“Do you sleep in underwear?” I ask, feeling weirdly defensive, but it’s hard to stay angry. Not with the way he’s looking at me with pure wonder in his eyes.
This guy’s fucking insane.
It’s like he’s seeing a woman for the first time.
No, it’s like he’s seeing pure perfection. Like he’s having a religious experience.
The worship in his expression is overwhelming and incredible. He’s basking in me like I’m a goddess descending down from heaven. I’ve never been so thoroughly seen before in my life, and it’s incredibly addictive.
Even though he’s a demon.
He responds with another blistering kiss as his hands find my soaking slit. He teases up and down, and I grind into his touch. Brainless and spineless. Buzzing with how badly I want it. He growls into my mouth and it’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard in my life, like he’s losing control.
When his fingers finally slide inside, my spine goes rigid and I make a wailing moaning sound I didn’t even know could come out of my throat.
“Wet,” he says, voice shaking. Somehow, he makes that one word sound incredible. “So fucking soaked. You want this, you filthy fucking girl.”
“Don’t say that.” I shiver because he’s right. I really, really do want it.
“You’re dripping. You’re soaking my palm.” He glides his fingers in deep and grinds the heel of his hand against my clit. It sends waves of bliss down my spine as I spread my legs wider. Fuck that’s incredible. “Bianca, you filthy fucking slut, you act like you’re perfect and good, but look at you now. Dripping for me. For your murderer husband.”
“Oh my god,” I gasp, grinding into him, back arching and mind beginning to melt. “Don’t talk to me that way, you fucking asshole.”
“Filthy slut.” His fingers go deeper and faster. “Dirty fucking girl. You belong on your knees begging for cum, you know that? You walk around like God’s gift but you’re just as fucked and dirty as the rest of us sinners.”
“Fuck you,” I moan while thinking keep going. My fingers grip the sheets and I’m so close I can barely stand it. I don’t know what it is about this guy talking to me like that but it breaks something inside of me. It wakes a filthy demon. Some primal, slutty, needy part of me. The little slice of evil I’m constantly trying to keep quiet.
Everyone’s got a little nightmare hiding deep inside them.
Cormac’s bringing mine out.
And it feels so fucking good.
“Let me lick you, filthy girl. Let me see if you taste as good as you look, as you smell.” He breathes me in before covering my pussy with his mouth. His tongue laps me, licking, sucking, sloppy and incredible. My clit’s throbbing with each blissful stroke. I grab his hair and grind myself into him, not caring if it makes me look crazy or if I’m drowning him with my desire.