Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

He interlaces our fingers and pins my hands above my head. I glimpse the tattoo, wanting to know the meaning of it, but he moves in and out of me and pleasure overrides my thoughts.

Thrust for thrust, he brings me higher while simultaneously binding me to him. Every time he pushes inside of me, his eyes burn with savage pleasure.

“I love to stretch your tight pussy. Fill you with every inch. You feel so fucking good.”

On instinct, I arch my hips to meet and take him. “You do too.”

“We might have a problem, princess. Because taking you just became my new favorite pastime.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Don’t you know by now, sweetheart? I’m mad for you.”

His thumb presses down on my clit, and a heavenly pressure builds inside of me.

My toes curl, and I throw my head back. I cry out his name as I come, body liquefying.

Every muscle in his body strains and he gets bigger inside of me, if that’s even possible. With a low groan, he comes crashing down next to me.

He pulls me next to him, and we lay on our sides, face-to-face.

“I thought of something romantic to say, but shit, whenever I look at you, I can’t think at all.”

If that wasn’t romantic, I don’t know what is.

With my head on Abigail’s stomach, her fingers thread through my hair softly. I close my eyes, savoring this feeling of content that I’ve never experienced before. This turned out to be the best night of my life.

When I wake up, she’s curled to my side. My heart expands, filling up my chest. Her blond hair spills over my chest like satin gold, her full lips parting with a satisfied moan, but her belly grumbles.

Torn between staying just like this with her and feeding my girl, I dress quickly and tiptoe outside.

Running toward the dorm to get my car, I drive to the nearest grocery store, buying a breakfast assortment and a pack of condoms.

After quick shopping, I return and park. When I get out of my car, I notice a bush of wild roses along the left side of the house. They instantly stop me. I pluck some out, ignoring the small cuts and drops of blood. Abigail reminds me of these roses. Just like them, she’s worth the pain.

I walk inside, carrying the roses and the breakfast bag. On the blanket, she rubs at her eyes, her legs crossed. A bright smile covers her face, her happiness igniting mine.

I keep admiring her, telling myself I’m not dreaming. That last night happened. That we happened.

She tilts her head, watching me, watching her. I place the bag down. Wrapped in the blanket, she stands up and kisses me. That’s the first thing she does, ignoring everything else, and putting me on my knees.

I give in to the kiss, loving her soft lips pressed against mine, our tongues tangling, creating an addictive combination—a dance of heat and passion.

She jumps into my arms. This is what I want: to wake up to her like this, with her in my arms and feeding off her need just as potent as mine.

She gets on her knees and peels my jeans off me with jerky moves. She wears a mischievous grin as she bows her head and sucks my steel hard dick in her mouth.

I squeeze my eyes. Her lips wrapped around the head of my cock makes me delirious. The pleasure almost knocks me out.

“You, on my dick, now.”

She releases it with a pop. “A little bit bossy, aren’t we?”

“Please.”

“I really want to suck your dick.”

“Jesus Christ, princess.”