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Book online «Dead End: Midnight Hollow Penn Cassidy (good books to read in english TXT) 📖». Author Penn Cassidy



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shiny metal table and picked up a bonesaw because I couldn’t look him in the face without feeling guilt.

A shiver cascaded down my spine when he gathered my hair and swiped it to the side as he placed his chin on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I felt heat instead of cold, love instead of hatred, and I hoped the feeling would last.

“Wanted or still do?” His lips glided over my neck, barely touching but still causing goosebumps to prickle over my skin in delight.

“Always want. There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t wanted all of you guys,” I confessed, dreading that he would push me away in disgust and call me a whore.

“Can I keep you, Tobs?” He skimmed his soft lips over the shell of my ear as he whispered the question I’d longed for. “Can I finally make you mine? I’ll share with my brothers always, and I’ll never doubt what’s in here.” He placed his hand over my rapidly beating heart and just stood there holding me, rocking us back and forth.

“Keep me? Michael, you had me the very second you shyly introduced yourself and asked if I wanted some of your ice cream. I’ll always be yours, even if you hate me. Even if I’ll never, ever share my favorite ice cream.” I leaned my head back against his shoulder and looked up at his handsome face.

His eyes were closed as his chest rose and fell rapidly against my back. His lips slid into a slow, wicked smile before he opened his darkening eyes to stare down at my upturned face.

“The things that does to me, the things I want to do to you. You should run away before it’s too late,” he whispered against my temple, his soft lips trailing down until his cheek was placed along mine.

Was it possible for one's heart to punch its way out of the chest cavity and fly into the palm of the person who got it racing in the first place? Our breathing was the only thing filling up the silent yet peaceful space. I shifted my gaze down as I watched his long fingers skim along the exposed skin between my corset and skirt.

“Show me,” I groaned. “Show me how bad you want me. Show me every single bad thing you want to do to me.” My voice came out rapsy, begging him to give me all the dark and dirty thoughts he’d always hidden behind those ocean eyes.

He groaned as if in agony, tightening his now clawed, inky fingertips into my skin enough to leave bruises. He slowly dragged those magical hands up the silk material of my corset, until his fingers trailed over the racing pulse in my neck for a beat, just before wrapping his hand around my throat to angle my face towards his.

“You don’t know what you're asking for, little goth, but I'll be happy to show you.” He didn’t wait for my reply. Smooth lips smashed against mine in a kiss that was possessive, hard, and demanding me to open up under the pressure.

I most definitely met his silent command, opening my mouth with a whimper as his tongue snaked in with a leisurely caress against mine. I met his stroke for stroke, and it was messy, dirty, and I loved every second of it. His grip tightened around my throat to angle my head better, then his hand loosened and trailed unhurried along my hairline to the back of my neck, his fingers weaving in my hair until he gripped a fistful to control my every movement.

Who knew that the guys were hiding the need to give and give some more behind those stony masks for a whole year? I would have been way down with the dicking, but I guessed it wasn’t the time then.

“Bend over,” he commanded roughly, and I swore my pussy pulsed with that demand, practically begging him to fuck me good and hard.

He added pressure to my neck, pushing me down until my breasts were pressed against the cold surface of the metal table, stealing my breath away as he felt past my silk corset and pebbled my nipples almost painfully.

“Right here?” I asked in a husky voice full of need, bracing my hands on the table with my fingers spread wide.

“Right here, October. I’m going to spank you until your ass is sore and your pussy is weeping just for me. You’ll be feeling me for days,” he threatened, his voice hard and gentle at the same time.

Michael slid his other hand down my back until he was grasping the back of my thigh, then he trailed his talented fingers up higher and flipped my skirt over my hips. He still held onto my neck with one hand, so I couldn’t move as my cheek lay on the table, my breath fogging the metal with each excited pant. I spread my legs wider, bracing myself and arching my spine, because I needed to feel his touch, feel the heat that came along with each punishing smack.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, waiting for my fast nod before letting go of my neck and grasping both of my ass cheeks with another groan.

He gripped my ass before letting go to finger my thong, pulling the material and causing it to rub against my clit before snapping it in place, stinging my skin. His fingers lightly ran over my pussy lips through the thong, feeling how soaking wet I already was for him. The cool air brushed over my asscheeks when he removed his hands, until suddenly, his palm came down in a hard slap that made me gasp at the burning sensation. The blood rushed to the heated spot, and I could feel my arousal starting to drip down my thighs.

“Again,” I pleaded breathlessly, gripping the table for dear life as I stood on my tippy toes with my ass sticking up. I loved the way he hissed out a breath

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