Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“I’d rather throw myself into that ravine.”
“You came out of this room for a reason, little Ren. You want me between your legs. You want me to fill you, to fuck you rough, to make you scream until you’ve forgotten all about this awful night. Tell me that’s what you want.”
God, fucking hell, that’s exactly what I want, but I can’t bring myself to say it. He grabs my wrists, sitting up, pinning them behind my back. He kisses my neck, licks my nipples. “I don’t know what I want,” I say, breathing hard. “All I know is you scare the hell out of me.”
“Yet here you are, grinding into my cock. Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Then stop.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he bites my nipple. “Say it like you mean it.”
I moan as he rolls me onto my back. He shifts slightly, yanking down his boxer briefs. My legs spread for him, my body buzzing with desire. His hard cock rubs the tip up along my wet slit as he kisses me again.
“I don’t know what I want,” I moan, brain all but exploding from how good this feels, and I hate how true that is.
“Say you want me inside of you. Say you want me to fuck you until you can’t think anymore. Say it, Ren.”
“Fuck me,” I whisper. “Fuck me until I can’t think or dream or breathe. Fuck me, Lanzo.”
He slides himself deep between my legs and I’m gone.
Bliss rides into my skull, down my spine. He’s so big, he stretches me apart as he fucks me. Lanzo’s not gentle, not kind, but it feels so fucking good, it’s exactly what I need.
I buck against him, grunting with effort and pleasure, sweating as he grinds deeper and deeper, spreading me wider, making me gasp. We fuck like that, dirty, wet, and lovely, my fingers digging into his back, his mouth on my nipples, on my neck, on my lips.
“More marks,” he whispers, eyes flashing with desire. “Marks all over your body. Marks letting the world know you’re mine.”
“Lanzo,” I moan as my back arches and he slams into me, over and over again, my clit grinding against him. “Fuck, fuck, Lanzo, don’t stop.”
And I come for a second time, like impossible lightning flashing into my skull. I come panting and moaning, writhing underneath him.
He growls like a beast, biting my lower lip, grabbing my hair hard, slamming deeper, unrelenting, until I feel him come too, feel him stiffen and fill me. I gasp, muscles tensing, taking him deeper and deeper, moving my hips faster as my orgasm peaks a second time.
I collapse back, gasping, drenched in sweat.
“Lovely Ren,” he murmurs, still inside of me. He wraps his arms around my body and pulls me against his chest, rolling over. I’m on top of him, and he’s still stiff between my legs. “Lovely little Ren. How did I get so lucky, meeting you?”
“Lucky?” I whisper. “I don’t know about that. This feels like the unluckiest I’ve ever been.”
Then I bite him hard on the chest.
He gasps in shock, eyes shooting wide. I pull myself away, sitting there as he stares, a surprised grin on his face.
“Was that payback?” he asks.
“Just a little taste of your own medicine. Asshole.” I pull the sheet over me, grab a pillow, and close my eyes against the sunrise.
Chapter 7
Renata
In the morning, over room service, I try not to look Lanzo in the eye as I drink coffee and he explains what’s going to happen.
I showered but had to put on my dirty clothes again. All I want to do is change into something clean. Something that hasn’t been in contact with a dead body.
The memory of his mouth on my nipples keeps swirling into my head like a dust devil.
“I think you and I can make a deal,” Lanzo says, eating an entire bagel, raw. Not toasted, nothing added. Straight up. I knew the man was crazy, but this clinches it. “We can help each other.”
“I’ll be honest, I think I’m done helping if you’re involved.” I glance over, feeling myself blush. There’s a pleasant ache between my legs and a dozen little bruises where he bit me all over my body.
And earlier, around noon when we both woke up, I stared at his naked chest, at the long, lean lines of his muscles and his athletic frame, and I wanted to do it again.
I wanted him to fuck me.
Pin me down. Bite me.
Hurt me. Make me come.
Which is patently crazy.
Last night was a fluke. It was a panic-induced trauma response. Fucking him was dumb, so wildly moronic, but last night I had a good excuse—the whole corpse burrito thing was still fresh, I was sleep-deprived, I was scared.
Those excuses are now gone in the cold light of the day.
And yet he’s still no less attractive.