Excerpt
Why
the fuck is Kira at this party?
Stupid
question.
I
have no right to begrudge her this. She should be here, having fun,
experiencing college to the fullest.
It
just burns that she came here without telling me. That she didn’t even think of
inviting me.
That
she’s pushing me away while making time to sit on the grass with Austin.
If
Dana hadn’t told Ryan to call me, I wouldn’t have known Kira was here.
This
party is taking place in one of the student’s homes—a
mansion so fucking big, it’s bordering on ridiculous.
I’m
never going to find Kira here, and according to what Dana told Ryan, Kira’s
shitfaced. Drunk out of her mind.
And
Dana lost her.
Growling
under my breath, I push past the crowd, ignoring every drunk girl who tries to
grope me.
Sometimes
I wonder how I ever got high off this kind of attention. How my ego fed on it.
It’s annoying as fuck.
I’ve
already checked the large ass kitchen. Two of the sitting rooms. The foyer. The
pool room. And almost every room upstairs.
I
get a text from Dana. Marilyn just spotted her going into the
movie theater on the first floor. OMW there now.
Of
course this place has a movie theater, too.
Fucking
ridiculous, as I said.
I
about-face and practically fly down the stairs. I have no idea where the hell the
movie theater is, so I grab a few people as I walk and ask them.
All
of them are as clueless as I am.
They
look at me as if I’m crazy.
To
them, I probably look like I am.
Finally,
I find one person who knows. Don’t know who he is, don’t care. He points me in
the right direction, and I rush away without even thanking him.
The
theater is all the way in the back of the house, in an area that’s actually
empty. I get there in time to see Dana opening the door and rushing in.
Man,
she’s an awesome girl. I could never thank her enough for caring for Kira the
way she obviously does.
I
go inside and find the small theater empty, except for Dana, Marilyn . . .
And Kira.
My
breath whooshes out of me at the sight of her. I’m instantly hard, aching,
furious, and possessive.
We
haven’t fucked in days and I’d be lying if I said my balls aren’t full to
bursting. I need sex right now like I need air and she’s the only person to
give it to me.
But
she came here, in that tiny, dark purple dress.
I
have no right to tell her how to dress--but
what the fuck is she doing coming to a party dressed like that without me?
Kira’s
leaning against one of the chairs all the way at the front of the theater,
refusing to move despite Marilyn urging her.
It’s
obvious she really is drunk as a motherfucker.
“I
just want to be alone, guys,” she says, almost whining.
I
refuse to be amused. Now’s not the time. I’m too pissed at her.
But,
fuck me. She’s sexy, adorable, and those lips are begging for my cock.
“I
know, sweetie. But it’s not good for you to be alone right now.”
Kira
swats Marilyn away. “Stop your shit, woman. You’re not my mother.”
Even
Dana laughs at that one.
“She’s
not. But I’m your man. And I say you’re not going to be alone.”
They
all turn to stare at me as I walk down the short steps toward them.
Kira’s
eyes flare with resentment.
With
lust.
She
rakes me with a cold stare that still manages to burn my entire body with how
hungry it is.
Damn.
If any of these girls just happen to look down a bit, they’re going to get an
eyeful of how hard my dick is.
“I
don’t want you here, either.” She swats me away like an imperious little queen.
“Girls.
Leave us.”
Marilyn
and Dana hesitate at my tone.
I
don’t have time for this shit. “Now.”
Dana
snaps to action first and leads Marilyn up the stairs and out of the theater.
Kira’s
still looking at me with that rebellious hunger, a lust-filled sneer on her
face.
I
have no qualms about reaching down and palming my dick in front of her.
Her
eyes flare hungrily.
“We’re
leaving, Kitty. Now.” I can’t fuck her until she sobers up considering how
angry at me she is, but I’m getting her home.
Kira
steps toward me and stumbles at bit.
I
rush forward and catch her, pulling her up against me.
Contact.
Seering, torturous contact. I have my arms wrapped around her, my hands on her
ass, before I realize what I’m doing. As always, it’s an instant reaction.
Absolutely zero control over my own body.
Kira
pushes at my chest and that sexy small growl she gives me turns me on so much.
“Don’t touch me.”
My
barely leashed temper snaps free. “Like hell. You’re mine.”
She
struggles against me, her body sliding along mine. “Excuse me if I don’t want
to go back to fucking the dick I’ve seen inside Jennifer two too many times.”
She’s
hurting. I get it. Shit, I’d be even more feral in her shoes.
But
I’ll be damned if I let her pretend she doesn’t want me anymore.
Fisting
her hair, I slide my other hand under her dress and roughly shove her panties
to side.
Kira
lets out a broken gasp at the feel of my fingers slipping inside her.
I
move them around on purpose so she can hear how wet she is. “Lie to me again.
Tell me you don’t want me,” I growl in her face.
Her
arms wind around my neck and she slams her lips against mine. Growling at me
like she hates me and wants to eat me at
the same time, she kisses me with everything she has.
Owning
me.
Trying
to control me.
I
want nothing more than to show her who’s fucking in charge here, but she’s
licking my tongue like it’s the tip of my dick, and her hips are thrusting up
and down, fucking my fingers.
Using
me for her pleasure.
Her
body locks up, her plump pussy swelling around my fingers. A throb, a rush of
liquid, and she’s squirting into my hand, her sexy moans echoing between our
lips.
God damn.
I
manhandle her, my mind cracking under the pressure of so much need. Spinning, I
fall to my knees on the short steps and place her beneath me.
The
steps are short but they’re huge. Enough to accommodate her lower body on one.
Kira
leans back with her elbows on the step above her. Head thrown back, gorgeous
throat exposed, she struggles to pull in air.
I
lean back on my haunches and yank my belt open.
The
sound makes her raise her head. By the time her eyes are on my crotch, I
already have my glistening cock out in my hand.
She
whispers my name like a prayer.
Finally.
This
is what I need. No more distance. No more pain. Just her and her nearly demonic
need to have me.
And
I need this even more.
I
grab her thighs and tug her toward me. Kira says my name again. Her hands land
on my shoulders, fisting my shirt.
I
spread her legs wide, wider than I probably should, and slide that juicy cunt
right onto my dick.
Her
body arches off the stairs like she’s being possessed.
She
is.
If
I haven’t left enough of me inside her for her to understand—for
her to accept—that I own her and
always will . . .
I’m
going to remedy that.
And
there’s nothing she can do about it.
I
pull my hips back, slow, hissing at the slick feel of her pussy walls
tightening. Trying to keep me in.
Kira
whimpers, clenching me even harder.
Wanting
to let me go and powerless to do anything but keep me.
Using
all my strength, I slam back into her.
One
hard, vicious thrust.
She
cries out and comes all over me.
Again.
Just
like that.
I
crack my neck, a growl purring through my chest, and lay into her. No mercy. No
thought.
I’m
close. Just a few more pumps into that slick cunt.
Kira
fists my hair, her moans bouncing off the walls around us. I lower myself down
and brace my elbows on either side of her head.
She
tries to tug me down and kiss me.
I
slide one hand beneath her head, fisting that beautiful hair, and drag her up
to me. “Who told you that you could come here dressed like that?”
She
bites my lip hard enough to make my vision snap white. I think I taste blood.
“Fuck you. You don’t own m—” She chokes on her
words with my next thrust.
I
can’t stop groaning, yet somehow I’m laughing in her face at the ridiculousness
of her statement. “You want to keep fucking lying to yourself, Kitty?”
She
hisses like the wild cat she is and leans up to lick across my bottom lip. When
she pulls back, I see it.
Her
lips are stained with the blood she drew from me.
I
press my lips to her, our tongues dueling. We’re nothing but a mindless mass of
sex, and I can feel the come rising up my shaft.
In
the back of my head, it registers that I hear people speaking.
Drawing
closer.
On
the other side of the door.
“That
bitch ruined my life!”
“First
off, don’t ever call her a bitch in front of me. Got it? Secondly, you have no
proof it was her that sent your parents that video. Third, back the fuck off,
or I’m going to forget we were ever—”
The
door opens.
I
raise my head enough to look up. For a split second, the fact that we’ve been
caught freezes me.
Then
I see two pairs of familiar blue eyes locked on us.
Jennifer.
Austin.
Own by K.I. Lynn & N. Isabelle Blanco is the highly
anticipated conclusion to the Need Series and releases on November 28th!
Pre-order your copy at:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ewafgy
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2em4sud
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2eIE8Gh
Blurb
Kira’s finally mine.
Mine.
And nobody and nothing is going to take
her from me. I’ll fight for her, to the death. Do anything for her.
There’s no more living without her. No
more holding back my feelings.
If only it was enough.
We’re surrounded every day.
Watched.
Stalked.
Judged.
Everyone knows us. Now, they suspect. The
odds are stacked against us more than before.
We live in the shadows, hiding our love
from the entire world.
But not for long.
I refuse to live like this anymore.
I’ll do whatever it takes to own her. I’m
waging a dark war against those that stand against us.
And I will win.
That girl is going to be mine forever,
and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Haven’t read this series yet?
Now is your chance, Need & Take
are now in a Box Set.
NOW ONLY $0.99!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ewaic9
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2eBuq8Y
Meet K.I. Lynn
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.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Join her group | Goodreads
Meet N. Isabelle Blanco
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.
THANK YOU!
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