Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I’m so wet. He knows how wet.
He slips another finger into me. I swallow a moan and shut my eyes, then open them while the sensations ride me way too hard. He’s pumping two fingers in my pussy, and I never want this closeness with Rocky to end.
I clench around his fingers in the start of a climax, but it’s not enough. It’s never really enough.
We both want more.
And we detonate together. Colliding into lethal, fiery kisses that steal thoughts and imprison breath. The headiness makes me lose sense of place and time, but instinct is brutal.
We know to be quiet.
Very, very quiet, and I find out in these sweltering seconds, where he has me in his arms, where his cock is deep inside me, what it’s like to make diabolical, furious love in silence.
My ears are ringing as we shelter breath. Heat licks us. Tears seep from the corners of my eyes and his eyes. His muscles flex. Veins protrude in his neck, and my body torches to a million degrees as we resist and succumb all at once.
It feels like being ripped alive.
Don’t stop, I want to rasp against his lips as he holds me, as he arches into me. We’re consuming each other. Gorging from the inside out.
When we come together, spots dance in my vision, and I black out for a second. “Breathe, breathe,” Rocky says against my ear.
Okay, it might’ve been more than a second. He has me propped against the wall, his hands on my hips, and I grab on to the metal rod for balance.
I blink a few times, seeing the ripped foil wrapper to the condom on the tile. At least in the heat of the moment, we’re still careful.
Rocky isn’t happy. “You need water?” he’s asking while he lowers me to my feet and helps me step into my panties and jeans.
“No.” I intake big gulps of air. “I’m fine.” I pull my waistband higher on my hips. He tucks his black button-down back into his slacks, zips his pants, and I fix my hair in the claw clip, trying to decipher his expression. “What’s that look?”
“You would pass out before getting caught.” He’s not surprised I’d go to great lengths for the job, but I detect notes of concern.
“Wouldn’t you?” I shoot back.
“No.” He throws the ripped wrapper in the trash by the sink, then washes and dries his hands. “Because then I couldn’t take care of you.”
My brows crinkle. “You don’t trust I can take care of you?”
“That’s not it.” He scrapes his hands through his hair, taming the messy strands. “I don’t like being out of control—not with my body, not like that, not with anyone.”
“I get it,” I breathe. “Mostly when it comes to being drugged.” It’s happened to me before. My worst nightmare growing up was getting roofied, and I crossed that one off the list of fears during a short con in Nashville.
I was twenty-one.
I’ve been so careful never to let it happen again, and due to determination and savvy, it hasn’t.
Rocky pulls me into his arms. Right when we embrace, a fist bangs on the bathroom door.
I freeze. He’s just as motionless.
“I gotta piss, man! How long are you gonna be in there?!”
Shit. Only the bartender was at the pub when we first arrived.
Rocky stares at me while he yells, “I’m busy! Fuck off!”
The guy grumbles from outside the door, but Rocky isn’t concerned. He kisses me, and my uneven breathing levels again. I kiss him back with more certainty.
Until he presses his forehead to mine and says in an aching, rough whisper, “You need to yell at me.”
I don’t ask why. It’s obvious if we walk out together, it’ll look like we just had raunchy bathroom sex.
Which…we did.
I cling tighter to him. We’ve been in this situation before—okay, not this exact situation. But one where we needed to improvise on the fly.
With his arms around me, I yell, “You’re such a jackass, you know that?!”
“Yeah?!” He raises his voice to the same octave as mine. He’s staring at my lips. “Say it a little fucking louder! I couldn’t hear you the first time!”
“YOU’RE A FUCKING JACKASS!!”
He kisses me deeper, rougher. I love him. My heart hammers into those syllables.
I.
Love.
Him.
I feel the heavy thump of his pulse as we meld together. As my arms weave up around his neck. He’s snapped the claw clip out of my hair again. Just to clutch a fistful of the dark blue strands.
I almost moan. “Screw you,” I grit out.
The heat of his body, the strength of his hands—it murders me into a blissful death I want. I crave. Forever with him.
“Screw me?!” He shoves me hard against the wall again, and the bang should be audible to whoever’s on the other side. Our lips ache over each other. Toying, possessing with the need to capture and keep. “Jake didn’t have the money for you! You ever think of that?!”