Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“You—always you.”
I cry out in pleasure as he slaps my ass cheek. He slides a finger along my slick heat, pushing it deep inside me. I’m panting and swollen as he licks up my arousal. “Jackson, I can’t—I’m going to come.”
He slaps me again. “You will fucking obey me, slut.” With his finger slick from my juices, he slides it along my crack and into my tight muscle. I moan around his cock.
“You want more than just my finger here, don’t you?”
I let out another moan, and he thrusts his hips. I gag around him, and he grips my hips harder, his tongue fucking my cunt while his finger fucks my ass. It’s too much. Not enough. “Jackson, more. I want more.”
“So. Fucking. Greedy,” he hisses. Another slap. My thighs quiver as I suck him with purpose, my saliva pooling over his cock.
“Fuck,” he grunts, working his finger faster. “What I wouldn’t give to see my cum seeping from your tight little asshole.” My body thrums. “Tell me you want my cock, pet. Beg for it.”
“Please, Jackson. I want your cock. I need it.”
“Where do you want him?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Fuck,” he growls and pulls me off him, flipping me onto my stomach. His fingers dig into my flesh, leaving marks, and I lose my sense of reality. I pant, anticipating his next move. I’ve never done anal. I’m not scared, but I’m nervous about his size.
He drags his fingers down my back between my ass cheeks, and goosebumps pebble on my skin. He brushes his thumb over my tight hole, spreading my cheeks. “I choose this one,” he says, his tone laced with hunger, lust, and anger. There’s the sound of a drawer opening and closing, then warm liquid is coating my backside. Without warning, he buries himself inside me, and I cry out at the intrusion. His size is unapologetic, and my eyes burn at how he stretches me. “Breathe. Let me in, Peach.”
“I can’t. You’re too big.”
“Your body was made for me. Made to take all of me. So fucking take it.” He pulls out halfway, then inches back in. It’s still so tight, but the pressure slowly turns into pleasure, and I find myself lifting my ass to meet his thrusts. “That’s it. Let me stuff my cock in your asshole.” His dirty words blur my vision as he begins to pump in and out. My insides pulse with urgency. Electricity sparks between us, and I let out a hoarse moan. “So fucking tight. Fuck, take me deep.” My mouth falls open in pleasure. I pant and moan. Cry out when he pulls out, only to pummel back into my flesh. His thrusts are wild, untamed. I’ve lost all sense of reality, slamming into him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Jackson, I’m—”
“Beg me to fill your asshole with my cum.”
“Fill me up. I need your cum. I need all your cum.”
“Fuck.” He reaches around and circles my clit, hammering into me, and I detonate. Tremors erupt down my spine, and my orgasm coils through my body. “Fuck, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Fuck!” His growl is low and animalistic. His fingers break skin and his cock starts spasming, ropes of cum filling me.
I can’t breathe. What we just did. It was savage. Raw. Fucking perfect. His heart hammers against my back, and before I can say anything, he pulls out. The bed dips, and I look at him, bending down and grabbing my clothes. He tosses them on the bed.
“Get dressed.”
“What?”
“Get dressed and then get out.”
I hurry to sit up. “Jackson, why? I thought—”
“You thought wrong. One thing you should know about me, Peach—no one crosses me. I want you gone. You have until morning to gather your shit and get the fuck out of my house. One word to my son about any of this, and I’ll make sure you regret ever walking into my fucking room that night.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I slip on my bottoms and throw my shirt over my head with shaking hands. Summoning any sort of dignity I have left, I slide off his bed and straighten. I raise my chin as I walk by him, refusing to let him see how deep he cut me. As I reach the door, I pause, turning slightly. My voice is steady, even though my heart is breaking. “Trust me, I already regret walking into your room.” Without waiting for his reaction, I walk out, each step feeling heavier than the last.
I don’t wait until morning to leave. I shove what little I have into my suitcase and call an Uber to take me to the nearest hotel. The moment I step into the room and lock the door, the weight of everything crashes down on me. My legs buckle, and I collapse onto the floor, my suitcase forgotten as my heart shatters into pieces.