Wild Man by Kristen Ashley, now you can read online.
Prologue
Wild Man
“Oh my God, ” I breathed as I came, my mind blanking, every inch of my body tightening as bliss like I never felt before coursed through me.
When I was done, my neck righted, my eyes slowly opened and I saw him still moving over me, in me, God, God, he looked good. Beautiful. And he felt good. Amazing.
His gorgeous, silvery gray eyes were locked to mine, heated, intense, glittering, searing into me, all of this in a way he’d never looked at me before. Not once in the four months we’d been together.
And I knew, feeling the burn of his eyes, what that look meant. I knew this man, this fantastic, striking, wild man was mine.
Mine.
I felt it in my blood.
“Jake,” I whispered, my limbs growing even tighter around him, one of my hands sifting up into his thick, dark, unruly hair and his eyes closed at my voice sounding his name and they did this in a way that seemed like he was in pain.
Um… what?
Then he shoved his face in my neck, moving faster, thrusting harder, his breath labored against my sensitive skin and my mind turned to his body, my hands glided across his skin, my legs gripped him harder as I clenched his driving c**k with my sex.
“Fuck, Tess,” he growled against my neck then I heard him groan as he kept thrusting and he came.
I held him tight.
He gave me his weight.
I held on tighter.
Then he pulled out and rolled off me, falling to his back. The instant he did, eyes on the ceiling, he lifted the butts of his palms, pressed them to his forehead and closed his eyes.
Um. Not good.
“Jake?” I called softly.
“Yeah?” he grunted, not soft and also not opening his eyes or moving his hands.
Okay, uh, what was going on?
Feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable even after just moments before feeling like I’d finally, finally found my dream man, he was there, in my bed, in me and the joy that brought evaporated. I moved quickly. Nabbing the throw at the bottom of the bed, I pulled it over my na**d body.
“Is everything okay?” I whispered.
“Fuck no,” he answered and I felt my body go still.
He dropped his hands, his head turned to me, the look in his eyes not heated, glittering, intense, burning into me. It was conflicted and… I stared, not believing it but seeing it…
filled with regret.
Oh no. Oh God. Oh shit. Oh no.
I pulled the blanket closer to me thinking Martha had been right.
Damn. She’d been right.
His eyes dropped to my hand clutching the blanket to my chest then I watched them melt to quicksilver as they lifted to me, his face gentling, his body turning my way, his hand coming out and then his phone rang.
His hand stilled and he muttered a pissed off, “Fuck. ”