Page 229 of Outlaws of Tulsa

The grin is back and it sets me on fire, burning from my heart straight to my dick. I tremble, not at all hating the strong grip he has on my neck. Would he squeeze if I asked him to? Would he let go if I had enough?

As though he can read my mind, his fingers tighten around my neck. Darkness creeps around the edge of my vision and my cock pulsates with need. I want his mouth on mine. Again, he doesn’t disappoint, understanding what I need without words. His lips hover over mine as if he craves the taste of the air I expel. The hold on my throat squeezes until I nearly black out.

Pleasure zings through me, ricocheting every which way as he rubs his still-hard dick against mine. Choked breath wheezes from me. Right now, I don’t even care to breathe. I just want him to keep rubbing on me until I come.

But he grants me a reprieve, releasing my neck to chase where his hand was with his lips. He bites and sucks and licksmy skin, all the while dry humping me. It feels too good. Like I’ll never get enough. Like I’ll come and come and come. And when I stop coming, I’ll get hard and come again.

Grabbing hold of his wrist, I give it a tug. He pulls back so he can stare down at me. The crazed glint in his eyes shouldn’t be a turn-on, especially since I’ve nonverbally begged him to choke me again. He clutches onto my throat, testing my limits as he squeezes.

Overwhelming pleasure tickles over each nerve ending, electrifying the darkness that’s surrounding me and making me blind. I’m drunk on the way his touch and nearness consume me.

I’m going to pass out.

Holy fuck.

The world tilts and shudders as my nuts seize up. Heat gushes between us. I’m in another dimension, lost in insane pleasure, chased by a dangerous dragon.

Air suddenly floods into my lungs, and with it, my vision clears. Hovering over me is the most beautiful, most terrifying man I’ve ever encountered.

A jarring thought shakes me to my core…

I’m going to let this man—this monster consume every part of me.

No regrets.

I fucking ache for it.

There are some paths that a man won’t survive.

And this one, I know for a fact, I will not survive.

My dick, my heart, and my stupid-ass brain don’t even care.

Dragon

Ifeel so…alive.

He’s rushing through my veins, fiery and uncontrollable.

More. I need more. No, I need it all.

His body. His dick. His ass. His lips.

Everything.

As he comes down from his orgasm high, his long lashes flutter against his flushed cheeks. I crave to touch him, but for now, I settle for drinking in each detail about him.

Perfect lips remain parted as he sucks in air, filling his lungs that were deprived only moments ago. When he realizes I’m staring at him, his face blossoms into a dark, rosy pink.

“Um, good night,” he rasps out, his voice hoarse from where I’d gripped his neck.

Amused by his awkwardness, I roll off him, resting on my side. I’m not going anywhere. I plan to stare at him as he sleeps. I want to memorize this night and the way I feel.

Normal.

I feel fucking normal.

For years and years, I’ve existed, living on nothing but anger and the thirst for revenge. But these past few days with Cove, something has changed. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment or why or how, just that it did.

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