Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
I know I should, but all I want to do is fuck him until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, and then when I close them, I want him to keep fucking me until I wake the next morning.
“Unless you want me to fuck you with my gun, I’d nod, baby girl…”
I nod, grinding against his groin to feel his fat girth splitting me open from the inside out.
“Good girl.” He pulls out, before gripping my hair in his fist and slamming his hips against my ass, throwing me farther up the counter with each thrust.
“Keaton, I—” I reach for him from behind, desperate to feel him in more than one way, when my nails catch his arm.
“Cartier!” I stop moving. Fuck. Kyrin is about to storm through that door if I don’t answer. “Where the fuck are you!” My eyes find the lock on the door and see the space where it should be if it’s locked.
“Keaton!” I whisper-yell over my shoulder, but he slows his thrusts, massaging the nape of my neck. It’s the gentlest he’s ever been with me, and if I wasn’t panicking right now, I’d probably melt. “You didn’t lock the door!”
The handle jiggles, turns, and—“Stop!” I scream, just as I tighten around Keaton’s cock. “I’m having a bath!”
The jiggling instantly stops. “Well, when you’re done, we need to talk.”
Keaton slams inside of me again, and my eyes roll to the back of my head as my pussy releases around him.
“Cartier?” Kyrin calls out again.
Keaton chuckles from behind me, tightening his grip and slamming inside of me in deep, hard thrusts. My clit rubs against the counter as his cock fills me to the brink. Wet moisture drips down my thighs as his balls slap against the curve of my ass.
“Yes!” I yell breathlessly, trying to hide my moan. “I’ll be down…”
I hear a door close in my room and Keaton finally pulls out of me, spins me around, and lifts me off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us backward until my back smashes against the glass wall that separates the shower. His dick slips back inside of me as he runs his tongue over the curve of my lower lip. “Fuck, I miss this.”
I grind against him, the pressure building deep in my core as he slams me up against the wall while deepening the kiss. “Gonna fuck you every fucking day until we leave, and when I leave, Cartier?”
“Mmm…” I dig my nails into his traps, dragging them down until I’m at his arm again. Wetness touches my fingers and I bring it up to my face.
“When I leave, no one is gonna come near you with their dick because any time they try, they’ll feel mine still inside of you.” His tongue swirls with mine, and I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. Keaton kisses like he fucks. Like he owns it.
Blood catches my eye on his arm from my scratching and I bring it to my mouth and lick it off, just as he slams harder and pushes me over the edge. I scream into the side of his neck as he squeezes me tightly around my waist, breathing heavily into my hair. Our hearts beat against each other for a few seconds before he lowers me to the floor. Sweat slips between us, and when I reach for the faucet again to turn the shower on, he shakes his head, pointing to the tub.
“You’re gonna need a bath after that…”
“What?” I smirk at him over my shoulder, turning the shower off and making my way to the bath. “I thought you’d want people to smell me on you…”
I push in the plug and turn on the hot water.
“Not talking about that, Tigger…” His finger grazes over my cheek and I wince, jumping away from him.
“Forgot about that.”
“You knew what you were getting into the second you spread your legs for me.” He bites down on the cork of a bright pink bottle, pouring the contents into the bath and spitting the top in with it. He holds my stare. I need to calm the fuck down. I haven’t seen him in two years, but it’s like seeing him with fresh eyes. His hair is still shorter around the sides, enough to see all his tattoos over his scalp, and longer on the top. Not too long, though, because it would get in the way while he’s riding, and he can’t have that. His eyes are the product of evil, dark and murky. His cheekbones sit high, sharp, and perfectly symmetrical, and his jaw seems to have gotten wider. Stronger. Firmer. Keaton has always been the one who looks different to the other brothers. He’s obviously handsome, but the kind that most people find intimidating because he looks like an asshole—and is an asshole—or worse. He has a void stare in his eyes twenty-four seven, and everyone wants to fuck him until they lock eyes and then they mostly change their mind. Boys like Keaton are a reminder for girls that things really do go bump in the night. Keaton could ruin everyone in his path, but for some reason… it never applies to me. I think I knew that from a young age. Growing up, I’d be confused when people would say they feared him, because he’s never that person to me. Yet. I hope never.