Wicked Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #5) Read Online Ivy Layne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Series by Ivy Layne
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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“Okay,” he said again, taking another step closer. “What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

I did the only thing I could think of. I untied the belt at my waist and shrugged the robe down my arms, baring my naked body. Heat flooded Finn’s dark eyes, and the knot in my stomach loosened a fraction. Shaking the robe down my arms, I hooked my finger in the collar and tossed it over my shoulder as I turned and strode for the stairs.

“Are you coming?”

The footsteps behind me told me he was. I made it up the stairs ahead of him, but the second we cleared the door, he shut it behind us, the lock clicking. He caught me in his arms, and his mouth was on mine, fast and a little rough. It was as if he knew that slow and gentle were more than I could take without falling apart.

His hands were everywhere, stroking, squeezing, his palm sliding between my legs to cup my pussy, feeling the heat of my body readying itself for him. He worked one finger inside, the heel of his palm grinding into my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body. A second finger stretched me, splintering my mind and sending me to that place where all I could do was feel.

Just when I thought I was going to slide over the edge, his hand was gone, and he was turning me to face the bed.

“Bend over,” he ordered, a firm hand in the middle of my back, pushing me down. Good thing we’d already discovered the bed was the perfect height for this. “Don’t move.”

He was gone, moving around the room. I stayed where I was, arms folded on top of the covers, resting my cheek on top. A click and the fireplace came to life, the flicker of flames warming the room. Finn was behind me, tracing a line down my spine, his fingers going down, down, to dip between my legs again.

“So fucking hot, Savannah. Always ready.”

The rough hair on his thighs brushed the back of my legs as he fit himself to me, the head of his cock nudging my entrance, his arms coming down on either side of me, his chest pressed to my back.

“Just let go,” he said into my neck. “Let go and let me make you feel good.”

Then he was filling me, one hand shoving between me and the duvet to cup my breast, the other between my legs to press the heel of his palm into my clit as he thrust.

My brain shut off. I was surrounded, his heat and strength enveloping me, his cock filling me over and over, each thrust pushing my clit harder and harder into his unyielding palm as his fingers cupped the place where we were joined. It was unbearably intimate that he was touching me there, feeling the exact spot where we became one, feeling every inch as he took me and withdrew, the connection between us so much more than merely physical.

I forgot about my headache, forgot my fear, forgot everything but Finn, the pleasure filling me just as he was, chasing everything else far away. I came with a long groan, the orgasm tearing through me, wiping me clean of the day, of everything but Finn, holding me safe in his arms as he followed me into his own bliss.

A minute later, way before I was ready to move, Finn pulled me to my feet, ushering me into the bathroom. He flipped on the water in the shower.

“Hair up or down?” he asked. I stared at him, my mind blank. “Do you want to keep your hair dry?” he repeated slowly.

Oh, I got it. In answer, I grabbed an abandoned hair tie off the bathroom counter, securing my hair in a messy bun. Were we taking a shower?

Steam hit the room, and he pulled me in, his arms around me, the water beating warmth into my tight shoulders. Finn tugged, and I pressed my cheek to his shoulder, holding on, his hands stroking over my back, the tears I’d been holding back leaking from my eyes as I let the water do its work.

I don’t know how long we stood there. It could have been a few minutes or an hour. By the time Finn turned off the water, my headache had eased to a dull throb, and my eyes were drooping. He dried me with rough strokes, nudging me to the bed and lifting my side of the covers.

I got in without a word, rolling into him when he joined me, fitting my body to his until my head lay on his chest, one leg slung over his. His fingers threaded through the loose hair at my nape, tugging and stroking, lulling me into sleep.


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