Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“You’re so big, daddy. Mmmm, yes! Give me more.”
I thrust up with a grunt, driving deep, and she keens, a sound that could bend steel. That’s my girl. My dirty, perfect, sassy, sexy girl.
The bed is a monument to bad behavior: sheets peeled halfway off, the comforter somewhere on the floor, an upended glass of whiskey bleeding into a dark stain on the mattress. My knees are starting to cramp, but I can’t stop, because Marnie’s about to come and when she does, it’s the most beautiful sight ever. She trembles, thighs clenched, head tossed back, big tits slick with sweat and swinging above me, and I clamp down on her waist and let her buck, let her take what she needs. I love the way she uses my body. I love that she’s here one hundred percent, and that I have all of her attention.
“Fuck baby, yes,” I growl. “Fuck yes yes.”
I erupt like a fucking geyser at the same time Marnie ascends to climax. Her back arches, long golden hair in a wave, as she lets out a keening wail.
“Ooooh, Brent, mmm!” she screams, big breasts swaying. “Mmmph!”
Her pussy clamps down on my dick hard, before coming apart in violent tremors, and I lose it. My cock spurts and jerks in her wet twat, spraying virile cream all over those fertile fields. I let out a massive roar, but then realize that the roar’s gone on too long. In fact, I’ve stopped shouting and yet there’s still a howl going on in the room. What the fuck?
When I look, I see that it’s James is standing in the doorway, expression ablaze with a vein pulsing at his forehead.
“Fuck!” he rages. “What the fuck!”
“Oh my god!” Marnie screams when she sees him, even as her pussy continues to milk my cock. “Oh oh oh!”
James isn’t dressed for war. Just jeans and a t-shirt, but his face says murder, and his hands are already balled into fists.
“Get the fuck off her,” he shouts, spittle flying from his mouth. For a split second, I think he’s talking to Marnie, but no—his eyes are on me, and there’s nothing in them but pure hate.
Marnie freezes, mid-thrust, her back to the door. She starts to turn, but I push her aside—maybe too hard, but it’s instinct, protect mode, rage mode. She lands on the other side of the bed, tangled in the wreckage of sheets and pillows, big boobs bouncing, wide-eyed and gasping.
In a flash, I’m on my feet, cock still dripping, adrenaline already burning through the dregs of sex. I don’t bother with modesty, not now. “Get the fuck out of my bedroom,” I snarl. “Find your own woman.”
It only enrages him further. James crosses the room in three steps, and suddenly there’s nothing between us but the sick, crazy thrill of violence. He’s bigger and heavier, but I’m faster and pissed off in a way that adds ten pounds to my frame. He grabs me by the throat, shoves me back against the wall so hard a picture frame falls and explodes against the floor.
“You had to fuck her huh? You piece of shit!”
I wrench his hand off, slam my palm into his chest, and shove him backward. “She’s not yours, asshole.”
“She’s not yours, either,” he spits, and then he punches. It’s not a wild swing—he never fights wild—so it connects with my jaw and snaps my head to the side. I taste blood. That’s fine. That’s what I want. I drive my fist into his ribs, feeling the shock of it all the way up my arm, and we lock together, a chaos of elbows and knees and curses. Every time I hit him, I see Marnie’s face, flushed and needy, eyes rolling up in pleasure. Every time he lands a blow, I see her with him, on her knees, mouth wide open, and I want to gouge his fucking eyes out.
We roll over the bed, slam into the headboard. Marnie scrambles out of the way, clutching a pillow to her chest, but she’s not screaming. She’s frozen, likely horrified and unsure what to do.
James catches me around the neck, tries to pin me to the carpet, but I twist and break free, shoving my forearm across his throat and driving him back into the nightstand. The lamp topples, shatters, plunging half the room into darkness. We’re silhouettes, two animals, all instinct and fury.
“Fucking coward,” he hisses, spit flecking my cheek. “Couldn’t stand to lose, could you?”
“Like you ever gave a shit about anyone but yourself,” I shoot back. “She was just another notch on the bedpost for you.”
He slams my head against the drywall, voice rising. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know shit.”
“Funny, coming from someone I’ve known literally decades!”
That does it. He swings again, harder, but I see it coming and duck, and his fist sinks into the plaster. He howls, and I drive my shoulder into his gut, sending us both crashing onto the bed. We roll, knock over the last lamp, and now we’re fighting in the dark, blinded by rage and the static sizzle of blood in our ears.