Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
My moans mix with chopped-off screams and it goes on and on, until I think I’ll pass out.
“Such an innocent face for a dirty little slut. Your mouth likes to sing the ‘no’ tune, but you’re choking my cock at the promise of me taking your ass like an animal.” His lips pull in a snarl. “And yet, that motherfucking brother of yours dares to say he’ll give you to someone else. He has the audacity to think I’d let anyone but me see you like this.”
It’s that rage again, it’s bleeding off him in waves, and he stretches my back hole with his finger as his rhythm goes out of control.
“The only reason he’s not buried six feet under is because of you, Glyndon.”
I believe him. Wholeheartedly.
Shit.
If it wasn’t for whatever fixation he has on me and the knowledge that I would rather die than have him hurt my brother, he’d totally take it personally.
He is taking it personally.
But I still feel a tiny bit of relief at the knowledge that the thought of me, not my actions, have the power to stop him.
He eases his hold on my throat. “Say you’re mine.”
“Stop it, Killian.” I pant, downright shivering with the remnants of my orgasm. “You’re feverish.”
“I can still stuff you with my cum while you orgasm again. Now, say the fucking words, Glyndon.”
I shake my head, even as tears of pleasure gather in my eyes.
“If this is playing hard to get, then you’ve taken it too fucking far. Say it.”
“I can’t,” I force out.
“Then you might as well not speak again.” His hand that was around my throat slams on my mouth.
Killian opens my legs far apart so he can fit between them as he leans close. The new position gives him more depth and he fucks me like a madman and thrusts another finger in my arse, stretching me to the brim.
I can’t scream or moan, and any sound I release comes out haunted, muffled, and absolutely terrifying.
He’s probably thinking about killing me, but I’m coming again.
Just being handled roughly by him, not being allowed to even scream, is enough to have me shatter to pieces.
No matter how much I try to deny it, I love this part of him.
This part of us.
“I knew you were custom-made for me, baby.” He still sounds angry, but he’s aroused. “I’m going to fill you up with my cum so you know exactly who you fucking belong to.”
I shudder as warmth spreads over my insides. I expect him to pull out, but he stays there, semi-hard and slowly rocks his hips as if making sure that not one drop leaves.
Killian watches me, half focused, his eyes almost closed, but he continues the erotic movements.
“Maybe I should fill you up with my baby,” he murmurs, so low I can barely hear him. “That way you can’t escape me.”
Then he releases my mouth, collapses on top of me, absolutely burning, and completely crushes me with his weight.
I push at his shoulders, but he’s as unmoving as a buffalo.
“Killian,” I strain.
He grunts and effortlessly flips us over so he’s carrying my weight, but he’s still deep inside me.
“I can sleep on the bed,” I whisper.
“My body is a better bed,” he slurs back without opening his eyes.
“Take medication, you’re burning up.”
“Mmm.”
“Killian…”
His arms wrap around my middle, keeping me in place as he inhales me. “You chose me.”
“What?”
“Back there, you chose me in front of your brother. Brothers, plural. And that fucker Eli.”
Shit. He was conscious during that?
Killian kisses the top of my head and before I can backpedal, he says the words that go straight to my heart. “I’ll make sure you always choose me as much as I choose you.”
30
GLYNDON
I’m losing a piece of myself.
And it’s happening so fast that I can’t catch my breath during the process.
In fact, I only realized it when I couldn’t sleep in the flat I share with the girls anymore. It became absolutely strange and appalling to sleep on any bed other than Killian’s.
It’s been three weeks since that night I woke up with his dick inside me and slowly fused my life with his.
I’m losing control—or whatever control I have.
Which is why I’m drinking right now with everyone in a downtown quiet-ish pub. Well, as quiet as pubs that uni kids go to can get. At least it’s not rowdy like the bigger club on the other side of town.
An unknown band plays in the background, the music drowned out by the sound of chatter and the pinging of billiard balls. The smell of alcohol permeates the air or maybe just my nose.
I don’t usually drink, because it makes me act like a fool, but it’s not like I’m doing it with strangers.
After making sure I have enough shots to send me into a coma, I down the fifth. No, I think it’s the seventh.