Torque by Gillian Archer (have you read this book .txt) 📗

gripped her skirt, still around her hips, to prove my point. This time I thrust hard into her, bottoming out in her tight pussy. “Don’t say that shit again. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Maddie could only mewl in response as I set a punishing rhythm. Gripping her bunched up black skirt, I used it to pull her back and forth on my dick.

But it wasn’t enough.

I reached down and threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her up until the back of her head was almost even with me.

“You are mine. That’s all that fucking matters.” My breath sounded like a fucking freight train as I tried to keep my orgasm back. “You got me?”

Maddie nodded in my grip even as a little moaning gasp left her.

My hips continued to thrust into her as I held her up against me. I felt the overwhelming urge to mark her as mine. My teeth rasped against her jaw before I sucked a little bit of her skin into my mouth.

And that was when she lost it.

Her pussy milked my dick as her orgasm rocked her body.

And she screamed.

I had about three seconds to enjoy the sensation before I came with her. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I unloaded into her. I mean, the condom. Holding her tight against me, I waited for my and her shudders to ease before I collapsed onto the bed with her in my arms.

I knew I had to take care of the condom—I hated the feel of it against my thigh—but that would mean letting go of my woman, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

Taking a few breaths, I just held her and enjoyed the fucking moment.

My eyelids grew heavy, and the last thought I had before I let sleep take me was: who would’ve guessed that Maddie Roberts was a screamer.

Chapter Fifteen

Maddie

I reveled in the feeling of Nathan’s arms wrapped around me. I mean, we had done way more, but something about him holding me after we’d had the hottest sex of my life made me feel…loved. Cherished. Valued.

And it didn’t hurt that he’d literally made me scream. I had no clue I was capable of anything like that. But apparently I was, when I was with him. Because I was me and he was Nathan fucking Burns.

A giddy grin stretched across my lips. I’d guessed that sex with him would be hot, but nothing had prepared me for the onslaught of a pissed-off Nathan.

Maybe I’d have to piss him off more often.

I tipped my head back to say as much, but the soft, relaxed, and clearly asleep man next to me had me hesitating. Awww, I must’ve exhausted him. If my grin was smug before, it was nothing compared to the shit-eating grin I wore now. Little ole librarian Maddie Roberts had tired out big, bad Nathan fucking Burns.

Heh.

I basked in my all my badass-ness for a few minutes until my rumbling stomach reminded me that I’d skipped lunch so I could send some resumés out. My unbaked ziti still sat on the counter. I tried to wiggle my way free, but every time I made headway Nathan’s arms would tighten around me. It was cute the first two times then my stomach rumbled again, and I had to get creative before it tried to eat me from the inside out.

This time I wriggled a pillow between me and Nathan and let him cuddle with it so I could get dinner on. But first, I pulled off the remnants of my panties, grinning like a fool the whole time. He’d literally ripped them from my body. How hot was that? Then I grabbed one of Nathan’s t-shirts he’d left on the floor next to the hamper. I liked the idea of wearing something of his. Shame I’d have to go commando under it. I always had a spare set of panties in my purse, but I wasn’t willing to bet that Nathan would leave them intact by the end of the night.

Instead, I pulled on the shirt that smelled like him, righted my bunched-up skirt down my hips and strode down his hallway like a runway model. Apparently screaming orgasms gave me all kinds of confidence. I definitely recommended them.

Twenty minutes later the pasta was baking in the oven, and I was neck deep in his fridge, trying to parse a salad from the sad ingredients he had. He had lettuce but no tomatoes, avocados, or cucumbers. Maybe I could julienne one of those wrinkled carrots and add it to the lettuce?

I was debating adding the sad carrot when he pinched my behind.

“Nathan!” I gasped as I turned around, more surprised than anything else.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asked with a wolfish grin.

I shook my head as I held my sad salad ingredients to my chest like a shield. “No. Of course not. I can safely say no other Burns brothers have ever grabbed my butt.”

“They better not. We should look into getting you one of those property of tatts. That way all those assholes will know you’re mine.”

I hated to admit it, but a corner of my feminist heart fluttered at his desire to publicly stamp me as his. But it didn’t last. The thought of telling my best friends and his family about us filled me with anxiety. They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t think it would last. And I felt sick imagining the looks of pity on their faces. “I thought you agreed we shouldn’t tell anyone in your family.”

The joking smile fell from Nathan’s lips. My words hung in the air between us.

I closed my eyes. Why did I have to screw everything up? It was like a pathological need or something. Ducking my head, I turned for the counter to busy myself making the salad when Nathan’s arms stopped me.

He held me by the shoulders but didn’t say a word. It took every bit of courage I had, but I finally