by K. I. Lynn
Whatever. I’ll just fuck my way through the male population in return. Even the score.
Why the hell am I still even keeping score with him?
My heart twists in my chest, as if to answer my stupid question.
He shouldn’t matter. At all.
A tall, muscular blond man pushes his way through the crowd toward me, his eyes eating me up.
Oooo. I like that. He thinks his predator is more powerful than mine.
I give him a saucy smirk and crook my finger, daring him to come try and get some.
He does.
Just as he comes up to me, his large hand pressing to the small of my back to fling me in close, a shiver goes down my spine.
A shiver that has nothing to do with this guy.
I try to subtlety look around the packed house. The lights are off and club lights were installed. Through the ever-changing, flashing colors, I see nothing but a confusing blur of people.
The guy holding me grinds his hips into me. I’ve barely looked at him and he’s already hard as fuck.
I know why. It’s my exotic coloring. Brown and blond hair. Aqua blue eyes. A deceptively innocent face. A body I bust my ass to maintain.
I’ve heard it all before. How dangerous my looks are. What they do to the men I come across.
All but one man, that is.
I push him out of my mind and focus on meeting the thrusts of the behemoth in front of me with my own.
He bites his lip, eyes glazed.
I know exactly where his mind is at and I try my hardest to get there with him.
But my heart is racing, and that sensation of being watched keeps slithering down my spine.
Struggling to breathe, I turn, pressing my ass back against the hard dick grinding on me.
I feel more than hear the guy’s low groan against my back.
It distracts me for a bit, reminds me that this is now the only type of high I can truly get.
There’s no alcohol, no drug powerful enough to bring exhilaration back into my life. Not after he ripped it from me all those years ago.
But this? The power I have over men? It’s the only thing that comes close. It doesn’t help me forget, not at all, but it makes the hollowness a bit easier to bear.
I lift my hair up, tilting my head to the side and down as I move my hips in slow circles. The large hands on my hips clench.
Biting my lip with a smile, I let my long hair fall down over my shoulders again and look up.
Hazel mixed with green.
Horror mixed with that addicting excitement I can never feel unless he’s near.
And he is. He’s right fucking there.
The ability to breathe almost deserts me.
I haven’t seen him in months. He looks . . . He looks insanely beautiful.
The most gorgeous thing walking this motherfucking planet.
Bigger.
Meaner.
Damn, he’s mean. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days, and in the dark, his auburn hair is almost black.
He glares at me with a hatred returned tenfold.
But it’s that other thing I see that almost makes me stop dancing.
He wants me.
He always does.
This man treats me like I’m less than human, a husk with no emotions, but his dick hasn’t gotten over me anymore than my pussy has gotten over him.
Don’t let him see.
I can’t.
I force my expression into nonchalance, staring at him like he means nothing.
He should mean nothing.
He still means everything and I fucking hate him for that.
On purpose, I wrap my arms around the guy behind me, around his neck, and lean all my weight on him.
Hazel-green flashes with malice.
He’s always the epitome of calm with his yoda-type shit. Pretending to the world he’s this uber-civilized being, on his mighty gold pedestal above us.
Only I bring out the truth in him.
Only I bring out the monster in his veins.
The main proof I would ever need of how much he hates me.
I’m not good enough to be anything more than a come receptacle when it suits him. Never a girlfriend. Never a date.
No longer his friend.
But he also wants me to suffer eternally. To belong to no one although he doesn’t want me to belong to him.
Sadistic fucker.
I grind into the guy I’m dancing with, eyes locked with the man I despise, the man I can’t forget, and ride the hard dick pressing into my ass as if I’m starving for it.
Murder leaks into his stare.
I gasp under my breath when he starts storming toward me, using those big, muscular shoulders to move people out of his way.
I’m wet. Soaking. My pussy is shivering with hunger for him.
It’s been months since we last fucked.
I’ll let him fuck me right on this dance floor if wants.
No, you dumb ass! Resist the voodoo dick. Stop being his own personal whore when he calls.
I can’t.
The tragedy of my life: this man has left nothing but ashes of my existence and personality behind, and I can’t resist him for shit.
He ignores the guy behind me, staring down into my eyes, and bends his knees to press against me.
Oh. My. God.
He starts dancing, and I’m suddenly sandwiched between two testosterone powerhouses.
And only one matters.
The only one that ever matters.
“Don’t,” leaves me in a pitiful whisper that’s drowned out by the music.
He can’t do this to me again.
I won’t let him.
This time, it’ll be the end of me. We’ll fuck again. He’ll take the last bit of my soul with him.
And he’ll leave. Go back to all the bitches he loves to fuck.
He always leaves.
Jesus, are those tears I feel in my eyes?
The guy behind me keeps grinding into me, clearly thinking this is okay. That I want to be shared between them and he doesn’t mind sharing.
He’s nothing but an afterthought. A presence I barely acknowledge.
The tyrant in front me stares straight into my eyes with every move. His groin teases me, barely brushing along the part of me that’s screaming for him.
I slap my hands against his chest, those bunched up pecs, and feel his heart pounding like a drum.
His name gets stuck in my throat.
He’s still sharing me with this other dude I’ve all but forgotten, staring down at me with utter loathing.
And I’m about to come.
From having him near.
From every light brush of his pelvis along mine.
The feel of him.
His scent.
He bites down on his lip, expression harsher than ever.
A tiny gasp chokes out. Clit pulsating, I come on my panties and jeans, the horror of it doing nothing to ease how fucking good this feels.
Hazel-green eyes penetrate mine, and I can tell he knows. He knows I’m coming right now. He knows that it’s all for him and has nothing to do with the guy behind me.
I push him away.
Break out of the other guy’s hold.
Without looking back, I run through the crowd.
Exit.
Escape.
Distance.
My pussy continues to throb with mini aftershocks. I push past people, what’s left of my world falling to pieces around me.
I can never come with any of the guys I fuck. Ever.
One dance with him and I creamed all over my panties.
A sob rises up my throat. I run blindly, into what I think is a stairwell, and push it down.
I’ve cried oceans for that man. I refuse to cry more.
Up the stairs, footsteps pounding. Closed doors, all around. I’m near incoherent in my emotional turmoil.
I spot a door open at the end of the hallway.
/> I’m on the second floor. It’s not an exit. But at this moment, it’s my only escape.
Mindlessly, I run into a dark room, wobbling in my heels. I’m so out of control, I don’t stop running once I’m inside. I keep going, on a panicked autopilot, until a dresser stops my progress.
I slam to a halt, breaths heaving.
It isn’t until I stop that I hear it—
A second, even rougher set of breaths.
Behind me.
I’m so tuned into this motherfucker that I recognize him by the sound of his breathing alone.
He followed me.
Hands land on my hips, pushing me forward into the dresser. Those same hands yank my jeans down so roughly that the button and zipper tear with the force.
“Wants to lick other guys. Dance with them like she’s fucking them,” he mumbles to himself behind me.
I’m going to collapse. My legs can’t hold me up. My hands grab onto the top of the dresser, but they’re useless.
I’m frozen all over again, fear and desire warring.
Lies. They’re winning. Both. Equally.
I’m afraid of what this is going to do to me, but I’ll hand over my very soul to have that cock inside me.
He shoves his hand inside my thong, forcing it aside. Just the sound of his zipper lowering makes me almost come again.
He bends me over the dresser, clearly not giving a fuck how I feel about the matter.
His huge, beautiful dick slides up and down my wet slit from behind. I bite down into my lip so hard I break my own skin.
“Tell me you want this,” he demands in a deep voice.
No. I refuse. My pussy’s drenched. He needs no other confirmation than that.
“Fine. This pussy’s going to answer for you anyway.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp, hips circling back for his dick.
He impales me with it.
My world shatters.
Everything goes white.
He arches behind me with a loud, unholy groan, pushing his cock deeper and my body along the dresser.
I claw at the wood, destroying my nails, the pleasure robbing me of every ounce of my humanity.
“God. Fucking. Damn.” He whips his hips back and gives me another hard thrust.
Another wave of pleasure.
I can’t stop coming.
His dick . . . It’s like finally coming home after years of brutal desolation in an empty desert.
Everything I am, everything I will ever be, centers on this one single moment.
My heart won’t stop breaking.
“I hate you,” I moan, lifting my ass higher so he can thrust deeper.
He wraps his hand around my neck and lifts my upper body off the dresser. Thrusting into me frantically, he tongues and bites my ear. “I hate you, too. God, I hate you.”
But the way he says it almost makes me lie to myself. With that tone, it’s easy to imagine he said love instead of hate.
“This pussy. Missed it. I fucking hate you. Missed it so much.” His cock swells inside me as he fucks me faster. Pulling my hair with one hand, he squeezes down around my neck with the other. “Say my name, damn you. Say it.”
I’m too lost to fight him, my swollen pussy convulsing around his cock. “Fuck you, Ryan.”
He growls out like a beast behind me.
“Fuck you, Ryan Roth. Fuck you.”
About The Author
K.I. Lynn is the USA Today Bestselling Author from The Bend Anthology and the Amazon Bestselling Series, Breach. She spent her life in the arts, everything from music to painting and ceramics, then to writing. Characters have always run around in her head, acting out their stories, but it wasn’t until later in life she would put them to pen. It would turn out to be the one thing she was really passionate about.
Since she began posting stories online, she’s garnered acclaim for her diverse stories and hard hitting writing style. Two stories and characters are never the same, her brain moving through different ideas faster than she can write them down as it also plots its quest for world domination…or cheese. Whichever is easier to obtain… Usually it’s cheese.
Stalk Her
Website - http://www.kilynnauthor.com/
Facebook - http://bit.ly/1qbp5tx
Facebook Group, Honeybears - http://bit.ly/25BInIz
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KI_Lynn_
The Breach Series Bundle Blurb & Links
Find out why so many people love the tortured, dirty talking lawyer Nathan Thorne.
Includes Breach, Dissolution, Infraction, Reciprocity, and the highly anticipated epilogue, Release!
Delilah Palmer has always maintained control of her life and outward personality, blocking the truth that's just below the surface. Using a façade meant to be normal and hide the scars of her childhood, she's made a good life for herself. Becoming a successful lawyer, she is finally free from the tortured past that haunts her daily. Until he comes along and breaks open the cracks.
Nathan Thorne has a haunted past of his own. On the surface, he is personable, extroverted, and loved by everyone; everything Delilah isn't. However, hidden beneath his charming smile is a dark and tormented man that only Delilah has the power to unveil.
Forced into a small office together, they begin to see through each other's masks, and the magnetic attraction ignites an explosive relationship. Their firm, Holloway and Holloway Law, has a strict non-fraternization policy, forcing them to conceal their breach. But despite their efforts, separation becomes impossible, deceptions escalate, and Nathan begins to teeter on the edge of being overtaken by his past demons.
What dark secrets does Nathan harbor that stop him from giving in, and what is it that keeps him from healing and moving forward? And more importantly, where does Delilah fit into his turmoil? Will they be able to accept love and deal with all the trials that develop as their secrets are exposed, or will they fall through the cracks of their pasts and be consumed by all that haunts them?
Buy Links -
Amazon US - http://amzn.to/1WxijKq
Amazon UK - http://amzn.to/1TbCs3k
Amazon AU - http://bit.ly/1YXPxBH
Amazon CA - http://amzn.to/1rpmUmp
Kobo - http://bit.ly/1QH3ZrM
Breach on Audible
Audible- http://adbl.co/1Qt7kPG
Amazon - http://amzn.to/1LzVAut
The Need Series Bundle (99cents!) Blurb & Links
Includes the first teaser of Own, Need part 3!
I claimed him as mine when I was only seven years old.
It would end up becoming the most painful thing I’ve ever done in my life.
The boy who became my best friend grew up into the damaged, turbulent man that owns me.
He’s been cruel.
I’ve lashed back.
For years we’ve been trapped in a toxic whirlwind of back and forth heartache.
Why?
Because he’s no longer my best friend.
Years ago, he became my step brother.
Now… He’s the self destruction I desperately need to run from. And the one thing in the world I can’t live without.
He’s a whore and I break, letting him in.
One hit is a gateway drug, and I’m suddenly unable to stay away. So I take what I need from him.
I hate him.
I love him.
Amazon US → http://amzn.to/1Y41XYk
Amazon UK → http://amzn.to/1RRK9y2
Amazon AU → http://bit.ly/1M7H5yA
Amazon CA → http://amzn.to/1SGNIr9
Six Blurb & Links
I had a one-night stand. It wasn’t my first, but it would be my last.
A gun to the head.
A trained killer.
A deadly conspiracy.
Kidnapped and on the run, my life and death is in the hands of a sadist captor who happens to be my one-night stand. Armed with countless weapons, money, and new identities, the man I call Six drags me around the world.
&nbs
p; The manhunt is on and Six is the next target. Can we find out who is killing off the Cleaners before they find us?
Two down, seven to go.
When it’s all over he’ll finish the job that dropped him into my life, and end it.
Stockholm Syndrome meets bucket list, and the question of what would you do to live before you died. The questions aren’t always answered in black and white. Gray becomes the norm as my morals are tested.
Death is a tragedy, and I’ll do anything to stay alive.
Are you ready for the last ride of your life? Six has a gun to your head—what would you do?
This isn’t a love story.
It’s a death story.
Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/Six-K-I-Lynn-ebook/dp/B01FJ2E96O
Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Six-K-I-Lynn-ebook/dp/B01FJ2E96O
Amazon AU - https://www.amazon.com.au/Six-K-I-Lynn-ebook/dp/B01FJ2E96O
Amazon CA - https://www.amazon.ca/Six-K-I-Lynn-ebook/dp/B01FJ2E96O
B&N - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/six-ki-lynn/1123783097
Check out the Trailer - https://youtu.be/fzpON3PadIA
N. Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.
N. Isabelle Blanco spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn’t handling her “spawn”, as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.
Blood Flows Deep
+ Ismini +
He wants to kill me . . . More than that, he wants to see me die.
I don’t know him. I’ve only heard about him throughout my short life.
It is my destiny to die at his hand when he sacrifices me to the Fates . . .
