Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
It’s strange and unorthodox, but Jude and I share a connection. Maybe it’ll become destructive over time, but it’s there all the same.
“Don’t blame or hurt Preston, okay? We were just talking after what happened,” I say in a pleading voice.
His eyes narrow to slits as he runs them over the length of me, and I have to physically stop myself from tugging on the dress.
“Did you also get dolled up just to talk to Pres?”
I stay silent and his grip becomes firm on my chin. “Tell me, Violet. Who did you think of when you put on this sexy little dress and that shiny pink lipstick? Hmm?”
“Myself,” I say clearly. “I wanted to feel pretty.”
He pauses and his grip even loosens. “You did it for yourself?”
“Yeah. Is there a problem with that?”
“On the contrary.” A flick of his finger, a tiny graze, and he’s stroking my cheek. “I’m glad you’re seeing yourself in a different light.”
My lips part and something inside me warms.
God. He sure knows the right things to say for a grumpy asshole/murderous stalker.
His hand falls from my face and moves under the hem of my dress, his gloves leaving goosebumps on my starved skin as he sensually slides it up while pushing me back.
“I still hate others’ eyes on you. It makes me homicidal.” He’s speaking so close to my mouth, I can only breathe him, inhaling him with every drag.
“This.” He slaps my ass beneath the dress and I yelp. “Is mine, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
I flinch when my lower back hits something, and I realize he’s backed me up against the bike.
The leather creaks under our weight, and I slam both hands on his chest. “What are you doing?”
He grips my ass cheeks, then flips and pushes me so that I’m bent over the bike.
I’m still dizzy from the sudden jolt when he shoves my dress up to my waist. Cold air skims my bare skin and goosebumps break out on my thighs.
The sound of his unbuckling belt echoes in the silence and rushes to a starved, feral side of me.
Oh God.
I grab onto the sides of the bike, my nails digging into the leather, and look behind me. For a moment, I’m frozen because goddamn it, he’s hot.
The sexiest, most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
His muscles swell and ripple with power beneath his jacket and his veins bulge, visible even underneath the gloves, as he pulls out his hard cock.
When did he even get that…hard?
My mouth waters, and my thighs clench. “We’re in public, Jude.”
“You think I give a fuck?” His voice is thick with lust as he strokes his cock and slides my underwear down my thighs. A soft growl spills out of him. “Seems you don’t give a fuck either, considering how soaking wet these panties are.”
“It’s… It’s…”
“Shh.” His hard chest covers my back as he drops a kiss on the hollow of my neck, then sucks on the sensitive skin until I almost feel his tongue and lips on my dripping folds. “Don’t offer excuses for how much you love this. Just feel, sweetheart.”
My mouth is dry as he pulls away and grabs my waist, his cock aligning with my pussy.
I should probably fight more.
We’re still in public and anyone could stumble in and see this tattooed dark, broody man fucking me against his bike.
But that image only causes my legs to shake.
Maybe I’m actually broken.
Jude has ruined my perception of normal until I’m even wiggling my ass at the feel of his crown at my entrance.
“I’m going to make this quick and raw, sweetheart.” He nudges inside me and I clench. “Be a good girl and hold on to the handlebars for me.”
As soon as my fingers wrap around the smooth metal, he thrusts inside me in one firm, delicious go.
I gasp, my body convulsing, all my blood rushing to where his body meets mine. My mouth waters and I’m panting, downright salivating at the way he fills me so thoroughly.
“Goddamn. Mmm.” He grunts. “You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart. You always take my cock so fucking well, you know that?”
My body slides back and forth on the seat as he pounds into me, going deep and slow one moment, then hard and shallow the next.
“Oh, Jude…”
“Mmm, yes, moan my name like that.”
“Jude…that feels…”
“Good?”
“God, yes, harder.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. Your body fits me like a fucking glove.”
“Yes…yes!” Because, truly, when did a man ever fuck me so good, to the point I’m ready to orgasm just a few moments in?
Or maybe it’s not about the man, but what I feel for the man.
No.
I don’t really have feelings for Jude. This is strictly physical.
It has to be.
Slap.
I moan as his gloved hand meets my ass while he’s thrusting into me raw and so good.
The sound of our arousal echoes in the air. It’s sticky and loud and obscene, but I don’t care. My hands hold on to the handlebars for dear life as he fucks me into the bike.