The Belle and the Beard by Kate Canterbary (good book club books .txt) 📕

He turned his gaze to the ceiling with a guttural groan that sounded something like fuck me and then made quick work of the condom.

"Tell me again. Tell me you're ready," he rasped, his fingers circling the base of his cock as he dragged it through my folds.

It came to me then, the filthy gust of confidence I always felt when I needed it more than I needed my pride or dignity. "If you don't fuck me right now, I'll walk out of here and find someone who will."

That was all it took. He shoved his hips forward, the headboard snapped against the wall as he pushed into me with a single powerful thrust that stole my breath. He was so much bigger than I'd estimated, I could barely think of anything save for the heat and pressure coiling through me. One thrust after another, he was tearing me apart and I wanted to do the exact same thing to him. I wanted to undo him in every way, wanted him as mindless as he made me.

"I can hear you thinking, Peach," he said. "Do I have to bite those pretty nipples of yours too? Is that what it will take?"

"Probably," I replied with the kind of bratty tone that required him to make good on that threat.

Lucky for me he did, and I got to rake my fingers over his scalp and through his dark hair while I writhed and wiggled against the merciless treatment his teeth gave me.

"You are not real," he murmured to the valley between my breasts.

"Neither are you." The harsh rhythm of the headboard knocking into the wall matched the pulse in my core, and every time he drove into me, my eyelids drifted shut because I couldn't feel that much and keep my eyes open at the same time. I couldn't. "Your cock is splitting me in two."

"Is that a good thing?"

"So good." I flattened my hand over my mouth to keep from letting out a rude, lusty groan.

I could be extremely rude and lusty in these situations. Not always but there had been times of remarkably rude and lusty behavior. There were no limits when I chased that first orgasm. It was like I doubted I'd get there unless I put everything on the table. I'd say anything, any depraved thing. I'd beg them to fuck my ass, to come on my tits, to let me sit on their face. Once I got there, I calmed down, gained some confidence. Some relief. It was like my body remembered how to do this and I didn't have to put so much energy into it even though the second one was harder to reach.

But I never reached the second because I remembered myself. I wasn't desperate anymore so I could think. I could replay those words in my head and then welcome in the awkwardness, the mortification. The shame.

There was never a second. Not with another person. When I was alone, I could hit the second, the third, the fourth. Sometimes more if the toys were playing right and the inspiration was strong.

So, I kept that hand over my mouth. Kept those crazy words in. Kept the shame and embarrassment at bay.

"You feel fucking amazing," he ground out. "I swear to god, you're better than any cock ring in the world."

He pumped in and then all the way out, and with one deft flick of his wrist, I was flipped onto my belly. He tucked my ass up against his thighs, the hair on his legs lightly abrading my backside as I went on rolling my hips toward anything hard and hot. I heard his hand connecting with my ass before I felt it, nothing more than a loose slap, nothing like the type of punishment spanking that made my skin crawl.

It was exactly what I needed.

His rough touch did something to me that was very, very right.

I turned my head to the side and sucked in a breath as I watched him line up against my opening. I reached for the blanket beneath me, fisted my hands in the fabric. I needed something to hold on to. Something to shove into my mouth to muffle the overzealous things I was bound to say.

When he pushed inside me this time, I knew it was almost over. I couldn't stop the chorus of more, now, my god, Linden, yes, yes, yes. Even when I turned my face to the bed and closed my teeth around the blankets, I couldn't stop.

One hand on my hip and the other twisted around my hair, Linden fucked me without apology. Without sense. He shoved into me with that arrogant, possessive attitude of his, like he was fucking me for the same ancient reason anyone ever fucked—to claim and mark and keep. There was pleasure to be had, of course, but he moved in me like he was doing a job he was made for. Like he wouldn't stop until he'd fulfilled his obligations.

For once in my life, I really liked being the subject of obligation.

Since this position hit all the right spots for me, the wave of spasms through my body came in fast and had me panting out an unintelligible series of fuck yes now. There were shooting stars behind my eyes, and a glorious unraveling in my core, and despite Linden's relentless hold on my body, my knees went out from under me.

"Are you okay?" He didn't stop hammering into me. He went right on working every sated, tender ounce of me while I lay flat on the bed like a well-fucked pancake.

"I told you I was coming five different ways," I mumbled against the blanket. "Perhaps you heard that?"

With one arm, he scooped me up like a rag doll, settled my ass in his lap. "Nah, we're not done. We can do better than that one."

I glanced over my shoulder because surely I had misheard. "What?"

He smirked at me, asking,