Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
And I’m already nodding to let him know.
A shudder passes through his barrel chest and I sense his control snapping. I’m only given the opportunity to roll my hips one more time, sliding his manhood in and out of my slick flesh, when Desmond throws me down on my back, right there on the booth.
I see nothing but lights flashing on the ceiling.
Bass pumps all around us. Conversations spike over the music.
But I’m only aware of Desmond’s grunts as he fucks me hard and raw and rough on the booth of the club, my back sliding up and down on the leather. The act of being claimed is so intense, I arch my back and scream, my fingernails ripping down the flexing breadth of his back, but he only continues to seat himself inside me, over and over, grunting expletives into my ear.
“You’re going to bring this tight, little pussy home to me every fucking night. Understand me, sweetheart?” He rams himself deep and holds. “I’m not playing games.”
“Every night,” I whimper, wrapping my legs around his hips, clinging for dear life. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. I’ll never stop hitting this. Never. I’m going to hunt you down, day and night.” He drops his mouth into my neck and kisses the skin there tenderly, once, twice. “I’ll never stop loving you, either, Quinn. My heart is yours and you can’t give it back. You hear me?”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, his mouth finding mine, giving it a thorough, groaning sweep of his tongue. “Desmond…I love you. I love you.”
My declaration makes his shaft flex inside me, his muscles stiffen. “Hearing that makes me need to come. Ahhhh, shit, sweetheart. You had to say it.” He starts to bear down on me faster, faster, his hips slapping mine, tunneling his thickness inside me, creating slippery wet friction that drives my pleasure higher, higher, higher. “Say it again when you’re close.”
I drop my thighs wider, uncaring who can see us. Unconcerned if hundreds of people are watching Desmond take my virginity on the booth of a club, desperate and sweating. “I’m close. I love you. I’m close.”
Another shudder passes through him, this one violent and his thrusts turn almost mean, his muscular arms caging my head in, his jaw slack, eyes unseeing, as he drives into me in a frenzy. “I love you, Quinn. I love you.”
Stars dance in front of my eyes a moment before my climax crests and then all my senses deplete, apart from touch. I can feel only the tumult of pleasure originating between my legs and winding around my bones, throughout my belly, my inner thighs. Oh Lord. Oh my Lord, it’s the most exquisite feeling in the world and I get to share it with Desmond as he follows behind me a moment later, bellowing into the crook of my neck, his hips jerking with involuntary spasms. And the hot stickiness…it flows and coats everything. My insides, my outsides, the booth and parts of my dress.
It’s not just physical release, though that would be extraordinary in itself. There is also a lessening of pressure in my chest, as if my heart needed to connect in this one final way with my soul mate or it might have been crushed.
Now I’m complete.
Now we’re complete.
Desmond kisses my mouth, lingering there for long moments, before sitting up. He brings me with him, pulling me onto his lap and holding me like a priceless artifact.
“Mine forever,” he says, laying my hand on his heart. “Yours forever.”
“Forever,” I whisper back, my eyes damp.
I never find out who saw us that night, because Desmond tucks my face into the crook of his neck and carries me out the back exit door, out into the night and straight into our happily ever after…
Epilogue
Desmond
Five Years Later
My heart is racing out of control.
There’s a horrible crackling sound in my ears.
Another five seconds and I wouldn’t have made it out of the fire alive.
I drop to my knees on the sidewalk and knock my helmet off, letting it smash down onto the concrete beside me. A paramedic rushes over and asks me a series of questions, but I wave him off, trying to catch my breath. Nothing would help. Nothing is going to help but having my wife in my arms. Jesus, I almost died tonight.
When there was a chance I wouldn’t make it up the smoky staircase, all I could see was Quinn. My daughters were there, too, vying for attention in my consciousness. But like always, my wife overrode everything—and without her voice in my head, I don’t know if I could have summoned the extra power it took to make it out before the stairway ceiling collapsed.
“Captain Conlon.” One of my men slaps a hand down on my shoulder. “We should get you some oxygen—”