Rock (Hard Rock Harlots #4) by Kendall Grey Read Free Book Online Page A

we’ll be safe if someone busted us, or the beaten-down emotions that lost access to the usual fears, but right now, splayed against a slide on a kids’ playground with Shades munching my carpet, I feel … conquered. Like I finally gave in to something I fought all my life to resist.
    Does this man have any idea how much he means to me? How much I need him? Shades is the human version of The Rock. He holds me together. If I lose him …
    Shit.
    I don’t like being afraid. I hate the loss of control. The forced submission. The helplessness.
    Right now, I fear the unknown, breathing against the back of my neck, teeth taunting my skin with frightening promises, threatening to claim my last breath. I can’t … I won’t …
    I shove Shades away.
    Can’t deal with warmth and sweetness and sensitivity. I need the hard fuck that leaves me sore and walking funny for a week. I need the fuck that fritzes out my brainwaves and renders me so dick-drunk, I can’t form coherent words. I need the fuck that proves beyond a doubt that I’m his and he’s mine and nothing or nobody will ever come between us.
    In other words, I need a really angry fuck.
    “What’s wrong?” Shades says, cupping his dick.
    I leave him for the swings.
    “What’d I do, Letty?” Exasperation hollows his voice.
    Unhooking the links at the top of the vertical bar, I ignore him and raise the seat to crotch level. Then I saddle up. “Push me,” I say, grasping the chains on either side.
    Shades stomps behind me, cock lolling like a golden retriever’s tongue from the mouth of his fly, and gives me a shove. He’s probably done with my emotional outbursts, but he doesn’t say anything.
    In a couple minutes, I’m flying high with Shades’s help. The wind puffs up my skirt, putting my vag on display for anyone with night-vision goggles to see.
    “Are you gonna talk to me or what?” he asks. His hands warm my back with another push. I fly, legs splayed forward, then I pull them in for the return flight.
    Push. Fly. Push. Fly. Push.
    “You’re my rock,” I confess. “The only one I depend on besides myself. If you let me down …”
    Push. Fly.
    Thud.
    Forward momentum stops suddenly, but two arms wind around my front and keep me from flying off the seat. Stomps of boots over dirt sound off. A warm body enfolds mine from behind. He stumbles with me, protective, holding on tight.
    The swing spins, and he stares down at me, clutching the chains, lifting me toward his lips. “I will never let you down.”
    I swallow. “Not even if it comes to choosing me over her? Over them ?”
    He holds me steady. “Never.”
    That’s what I needed to hear. I toss my arms around his neck and attack him. My legs curl around his hips, putting him in an ass-lock. “Fuck me, Shades,” I gasp between bites and pain-filled nose bumps. “Fuck me so hard, you break me.” I wrestle him for control of the chains, but he won’t budge. “Slam this pussy full of cock, and fill it with cum until I’m brimming with you. I need you on me, in me, owning me. Prove how much you love me. Prove you’ll never leave me. Prove you’re mine.”
    I fumble for his bruised wang and stuff it inside. His head tips back with a howl of agony as my pussy lips clamp around him and imbibe in the fruits of his sore labors.
    “Yeah, embrace that pain, motherfucker. Own it like you own me.” I slap his face and redirect his attention to my tits with an upward tug of my shirt. I shove his mouth to a nipple. Enraged, he sucks so hard, the bud goes numb.
    Nailed to the swing seat and trying my damnedest to get gravity and physics to comply with my needs, I rock and thrust and flail. Hunting for the orgasm I know is nearby, I let the rest of my anger out through my words.
    “Tell me the truth, Shades.” I yank his head up. “Look me in the eyes and tell me the goddamn truth.” Thrust. Bang. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “What do you want to do about this tour? No lies.” Squeeze. Kick. Slam.
    He