Free Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) by Jennifer James Page A

mouth, and
with each plunge, he rocked his hips forward, easing his thick length in a
little further. When Callie attempted to take him deeper, he held her hips firm
to the bed, not willing to let her rush their lovemaking.
    It seemed like forever, but finally his
cock filled and stretched her pussy with its full length. A shudder ran through
him from the crown of his head to his feet, and he released her hip. Her muscles
clenched around him and she struggled to remain still. Theo retreated and
thrust forward with a precise steady rhythm, his pelvic bone colliding with her
clit at the height of each movement. She planted her feet to the bed, clasped
her hands on his ass, and dug her nails in, the torture of the slow build up
almost too much. He pinched and rolled her nipples. Kissed her until she lost
all breath.
    “Fuck, female.” His pace faltered and he
slammed into her, increased his speed until the sound of flesh hitting flesh
filled the room.
    “Yes, Theo, hard.” She cupped his cheek,
sorrow for the pain haunting his eyes welling inside her. “Let go, whatever it
is. Let go.”
    He buried his face in the crook of her
neck and jerked as his orgasm spilled his cum into her. She stroked his hair
and wrapped her arms and legs around him as his erection softened inside her.
The sticky wetness of blood clung to her forearms, the wounds in his back
weeping.
    He shifted to the side, took his weight
off her torso, and covered his eyes with his arm. “I don’t want to hurt you,
Callie.”
    “You didn’t.” She touched his bicep, but
he flinched away. “Come shower with me.”
    “No, you go ahead. I’ll get one after
you.”
    Confusion swamped her, followed closely
by hurt. “Okay, well, how about after we both shower, we get something to eat.
I’m starved.”
    When he didn’t respond, she scooted off
the bed and stood on wobbly legs. “The invitation’s still open, if you change
your mind.”
    A shred of the blanket from the bed
rested on the floor near her foot. She gathered it up, draping it around her
body toga style. The rejection hurt more than her pride. The muscles in her
chest over her solar plexus ached, tight with misery and a choking ball of
sadness. She’d taken everything he’d given, but he didn’t want to accept what
she offered in return.

Chapter Eight
    Booker’s words played over and over in his head, an endless loop
he couldn’t turn off. They drowned out the shower running in the bathroom. His
thoughts turned briefly to her naked, water sluicing over her large, full
breasts and the dips and curves of her soft belly. Blood rushed to his groin
and his dick stirred despite the sorrow and guilt plaguing him.
    You cannot protect
anyone.
    He rolled onto his back, the
reverberation of the peasant girl Sonja’s screams playing though his head. The
events happened so long ago across the ocean. The memories had become faded,
and he’d managed to push them largely from his mind. Until last night. Booker’s
words overshadowed the beating.
    If Callie stayed with him, she might
die. Without his wings and the constant problem his wounds represented, he
wasn’t at his peak physically—outcast from his aerie, half crippled, and easy
pickings for any number of other supernatural beings. The grotesques tended to
make enemies, and when your foes possessed friends and relatives who lived for
hundreds or even thousands of years, the danger could come from any direction.
    Instead of the fury Booker had probably
meant to incite with the news Logan witnessed Sonja’s death, Theo felt only
grief for his brother. For the grotesques, losing an innocent under their guard
was one of the worst things imaginable. And Logan had been ordered to sit by
and watch as she’d been attacked and killed.
    He couldn’t find any room in his heart
for anger with Logan. If his brother had disobeyed Booker—and thereby the rest
of the Elders—his punishment would have been even worse than Theo’s. Expulsion
from the aerie,