Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Beau’s harsh intake of breath cut me to the core. “There was no wrong answer there, baby, but … fuck.” The curse word was a groan, a growl, a thank you all in one. “Go into our bedroom. Now.”
Then he hung up.
Our bedroom. I couldn’t escape the thrill of him calling it that, in that hungry tone.
I watched the door of his truck open and shut, his large, dark form cut from the porch light. Already, my body was tense with need, nerves crawling up my throat, mixing with the excitement flooding my bloodstream.
Quickly, I moved through the house, my knees barely holding me as I made it to Beau’s bedroom. Our bedroom.
I’d always imagined Beau would be a fierce lover, but never in one thousand years could I have imagined that he’d desire me this much.
My heart galloped at the sound of the front door opening and closing.
There was a clatter of boots, keys. A shuffling sound of his coat being taken off and hung up.
My fingers bit into my palms as I stood in the middle of the room, staring, waiting. I didn’t know where to go. Whether I should lie on the bed, sit on it, or undress. He hadn’t told me to do any of that, so I didn’t; I just stood there.
The temperature in the room seemed to spike when Beau appeared in the doorway, eyes instantly on me.
As he softly closed the door behind him, he didn’t look like himself. His eyes were nearly feral with desire. Hunger was etched into his jaw, neck, the brackets around his mouth.
“On your knees.”
The words, the command, the rough tone in which they were uttered, had my breath coming out in choppy bursts. I didn’t know what I’d expected—I’d had less than a minute to create expectations after the phone call—but it wasn’t that.
The rug hit my knees before I fully registered that I’d complied with his command.
Beau stared at me on my knees, the slight upturn of his lips and the fire in his eyes showing me he was pleased with me obeying his order.
A flush of pleasure swept through my body in response to his approval. I wanted to please him. Desperately. Outside this situation, that might’ve been a problematic want, but not here. I felt safe. All I had to worry about was Beau’s instructions. He’d take care of me. I trusted that implicitly. I did not have to worry. Did not have to search for danger.
Beau slowly walked across the room, eyes never leaving mine. My breathing was shallow by the time he made it to me.
His hands tangled gently in my hair.
His crotch was at my eye level, and he was rock-hard.
“Get my cock out,” he demanded.
Hearing him speak so crudely scandalized me. Beau, the grumpy man of few words, could talk dirty.
Although I was beyond eager, my hands shook as I lifted them. He let out a hiss when I undid his pants, pulling them down to free his cock. I grasped it by the base, tightly.
Another grunt of pleasure.
“Put it in your mouth,” he ground out.
Again, without hesitation, I did as instructed. His grip on my hair was no longer gentle as I took in as much as I could. My nipples hardened, toes curling. Right away, my jaw ached from being stretched, my eyes were watering, and my pussy clenching, soaked and ready.
“Good girl.” His hips bucked forward, almost hitting the back of my throat. Tears escaped my eyes, and they ran down my cheeks. Yet I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
Lust coiled in the base of my spine even. The pain in my jaw and mouth only served to intensify my need as Beau let out grunts of pleasure.
“Baby,” he clipped out. “I’m going to come. You don’t want it in your mouth, you stop right now.”
I paused for a split second, grinning around his cock at the way his words were strangled. I did that. I was on my knees, but he was under my control.
I’d never swallowed before. It was a boundary I’d managed to hold with Waylon, the one time I’d been strict with him. He’d disrespected me in so many ways, broke me, yet I refused to let him commit that act.
Here, with Beau, it wasn’t something that felt belittling to me. I was hungry for it. For him.
So I didn’t stop. I kept going.
His powerful quads trembled. From me. I made him tremble. “Fuck, Hannah,” was all he growled before he was finishing.
I could barely keep up with the power of his climax; it spilled down the sides of my mouth, mixing with my tears. I swallowed relentlessly, my own body desperate for release. I rode on his waves, over and over, until he was done.
After I’d taken down all of him, reality slowly crept back in. My knees protested from the harsh floor, my jaw throbbed, and my breathing was labored. I’d never felt better.