Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
As she tried to climb him, he hooked his arms under her ass and lifted her enough to where she could wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, not once breaking their kiss.
He spun her around and shoved her back against the wall, pinning her there. With one arm he kept her up, the other he shoved between them, doing his best to free the buttons on her blouse.
But he was getting impatient and was afraid he was just going to rip it open, popping all of her buttons and ruining it.
Then she’d have to go home wearing one of his shirts. He’d grin at that if Cassie wasn’t currently creating havoc on his mouth.
He thrust his hard dick against the heat between her thighs.
Fuck, he wanted to be inside her.
But he was liking what she was giving him. If she wanted to drive right now, he’d let her. Without complaint.
A few seconds later, she released his mouth, panting against his lips as she stared at him. Again, surprise in her eyes.
Yeah, she wanted his dick. She wanted him. She hadn’t expected to want him like that.
“You done bein’ a little Domme?”
Chapter Ten
She pressed fingers to her lips. “I’m not a Domme.”
“Coulda fooled me,” he teased.
She removed her arms from around his thick neck and planted both palms against his chest, feeling his quick heartbeat along with the rise and fall of his rapid breathing.
“I don’t know what came over me. Why...”
His cocky grin made her want to take his lips again.
“’Cause you want my dick.” He thrust his hips again and his erection pressed against where she was not only slick, but throbbing.
She couldn’t deny she wanted his “dick,” so she pressed her face against his neck, hiding behind the long beard, ground hard against him, and muffled her groan into his skin.
“Damn,” he whispered.
Yes, damn.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on like this. Wanting to rip a man’s clothes off, demand he do things to her.
“I need you naked,” she whispered.
“Think that was my line,” he whispered back.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He adjusted his grip on her thighs, holding on tighter, and pulled away from the wall, turning them and striding across the room. He didn’t stop when he hit the edge of the mattress. Instead, he held on to her as they both fell, making her gasp.
Somehow, he managed not to crush her under his weight, but it pinned her to the bed, his erection, hard and hot against her thigh.
She pointed out the obvious. “We’re still not naked.”
“Good observation.”
She pressed her lips together and he rolled off her to sit on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots. Within seconds, he had both pulled off, his socks went flying, then he shot to his feet and tugged his thermal over his head, messing up his beard.
He drew a hand through it a couple of times, smoothing it back down.
While he did that, Cassie stared at his chest. There was no way she couldn’t.
It wasn’t because of how huge it was, because it was. It wasn’t because of how muscular it was, because it was.
But because of the number of tattoos covering his skin.
They went up both arms, over his pecs and shoulders, down his ribs, across his lower belly and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.
She sat up, taking them all in. Wanting to ask so many questions about them, starting with the meaning of each one.
But Judge didn’t appear to want to discuss his ink right now. No, he was unbuckling his belt and unfastening his jeans at a rapid pace.
She began to unbutton her shirt where he’d left off and he made a sharp but deep noise that made her fingers still mid-motion.
“Sit right there ‘til I’m done.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but a growled demand.
And he called her a Domme.
She didn’t know much about BDSM. Probably just as much as she knew about tattoos.
Which was basically nothing.
She’d never dabbled in the Dominant/submissive lifestyle, or any kind of kink, and she’d never been with anyone who had tattoos. Not even a small one.
However, Judge’s tattoos were not surprising, not with what she knew about his lifestyle. Every biker she met who belonged to the Fury had quite a few, including Stella. Her boss had a full sleeve and a huge tree of life piece on her back, which she had shown Cassie in the back room one night when she asked about it.
She could only imagine Judge had a few on his back, too.
He shucked his jeans and boxers quickly. And suddenly, she forgot about any and all tattoos.
She also forgot to breathe.
His hard cock hung heavy, like he had a weight hanging off the end.
And it was not small.
It wasn’t scary big, but it was a lot larger than she expected. Apparently, the size was deceiving when he was wearing jeans. But maybe it looked bigger because, like the hair on his head, his dark pubic hair was trimmed short. Very short.