The Nightmare in Him (Devil’s Cradle #2) Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Devil's Cradle Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
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He gave her a pointed look. “I can do whatever I want to you any time I please. I don’t need your permission.”

She smiled, dropping her hands to his shoulders. “You’re so cute sometimes.”

“Cute?” His creature snorted, offended.

“Adorable, even. Ooh, that growl made all my pink parts excited.”

“That a fact?” Cain stood and backed her into the wall, drinking in how her eyes flared with both nervousness and anticipation—a delightful combination. “Hmm, I’d like to see that for myself.” He dropped to his knees and nuzzled her pussy, loving her little gasp.

“You’re not being fair.”

He flicked her clit with his tongue. “Should I stop?”

She scrubbed at her face with both hands. “I do not like how weak I am when it comes to your tongue.”

He barely held back a laugh. “So that’s a no? You don’t want me to stop?”

“It’s a no.”

“Good.” He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and then put his mouth on her.

Wynter felt her eyes drift shut as her head fell back. Good Lord, the dude knew how to eat pussy. He’d somehow made an art of it, and she was more than happy to reap the benefits.

She carved her fingers through his hair and scraped at his scalp as she shamelessly arched into his mouth. Her dignity often went out the window when he went down on her. All she could think about was making that tongue slide deeper, swipe harder, and thrust faster.

She soon came, helpless to do anything else. Rising to his feet, he wasted no time in palming her ass, hiking her up, and then lowering her onto the thick head of his cock.

She gasped at the delicious burn as he stretched her, but her delight soon turned to annoyance when he didn’t impale her on his shaft. “What are you doing?”

He kissed the valley between her breasts. “Making you wait.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

And then he subjected her soul to an avalanche of sensation—the brush of silk ribbons, crackly snaps of bliss, stinging slaps of pleasure/pain, and a featherlight ghostly touch that felt like someone blew a warm breath over her soul.

It was pure rapture at its finest. Soon, she started to feel all floaty. Seriously floaty. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. Became a mindless, carnal creature that was ruled by the elemental urge to chase the orgasm that was building inside her.

She was distantly aware that she was arching and writhing and moaning, trying to take more of the cock that had no more than dipped inside her. She was more caught up in the euphoric soul-deep pleasure that seemed to pull her into a whole other realm.

A realm she snapped out of when he squeezed her ass hard and prickly sensations dragged over her very being like sharp bristles of a hairbrush. Fucking ow. She winced—

He thrust his hips upward and slammed her down on his cock. Wynter sucked in a breath, coming instantly as the pain and pleasure blended perfectly. Jesus fuck.

He kissed her as he rode her, sharing every breath, swallowing every moan, pouring growls and grunts down her throat. His hands kept a tight grip on her ass as he held her still while he took her hard.

The gentleness he’d shown her in the shower last night had gone. This here and now was raw and rough and primal. A man rutting on his woman.

His teeth scraped the corner of her mouth. “Do you know why you exist, Wynter?” he asked, still slicing his dick in and out of her. “You exist to be mine. You were fucking born for me. Born to take my cock.”

Again he thrashed her soul with strokes, bites, licks, and scratches . . . until she was once more swept away by the decadent sensations.

She clawed at his nape because, oh God, she was gonna come. “Cain . . .” A forceful surge of dark pleasure burst its way across her very being just as he thumbed her clit and bit hard into her neck.

Wynter didn’t merely break, she shattered into a billion pieces and—honest to God—it was like she left the physical plane, completely and utterly wrecked. The orgasm was mental, sexual, and soul-freaking-deep.

She might have screamed, might have bucked, might have cried—she really had no clue, because she was far too caught up in the pleasure/pain that all but destroyed her. Hell, she didn’t even register when he came.

Overwhelmed, she could do nothing as her vision began to blur and darken. She fought to stay conscious, clinging to her post-orgasm buzz with all her might. The fight thankfully paid off.

Breathing hard, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Nearly passed out again, didn’t you?”

She gave him a weak snarl. “Fuck off.” The prick chuckled. “If I could touch your soul, I’d do the same stuff to you and see how you held up against it.”



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