The Pucking Wrong Man (Pucking Wrong, #4)

by C.R. Jane

“Anastasia, that’s Ari. And that’s Blake, his wife. Her, you can be friends with. Him, you cannot,”

Every time our eyes met, it was like a spark igniting something deep within me. I’d never been more aware of another person in my life.

“I’m going to be your first and your last. I’ll be the only thing you crave after I’m done with you. You’re not even going to be able to look at another man because your body is going to know I’m the only one that can give it what it needs."

"You're going to be mine, baby. As soon as you bleed all over my dick, you're done. There's never going to be anyone else."

“So, you’re not mad about this? I promise I’m not going to need anything from you, or start acting crazy⁠—” “Fuck, Anastasia. Act crazy. Take whatever you want from me. Own me like I want to own you. Hearing that I get to have what no man ever will is the best. Fucking. Thing. I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Good girl.” I whimpered at his words, taking a step wider because I wanted to be that. His good girl. I wanted to give him everything he desired. Just as long as he fulfilled this ache inside me.

Maybe Camden James really was a superhero after all. At least in the dick department.

Hahahaha

My eyes slammed shut, and he slid a hand to my throat, gently squeezing until I opened them back up. “Eyes on me,” he growled,

“You are fucking mine. I own this body. I own this soul. Mine,” he growled, burying his face in my neck. “Yes,” I whispered. Over and over again as he stayed sheathed inside of me.

“I love you like nothing I could have ever dreamed. I love your laugh, and your smile, and the way you care. I love how you light up every room you walk into. I’m obsessed with your body and your talent, and even the way you breathe. Everything you are, is everything I want, little dancer. Forever.”

“Camden, I can’t,” she cried. “One more,” I demanded. “Just give Daddy one more, baby girl.”

But I liked to differentiate myself from these so-called boyfriends. I was Anastasia’s future husband after all.

These men. I love them

“On your knees,” he ordered roughly. “What?” “I’m too pent up, I don’t want to hurt you. You’re going to help me take the edge off before I take you,”

“I’m going to destroy him if he ever comes close to you again. He doesn’t exist in your world. The monster is dead, okay?”

“You enjoyed me being jealous over a senior citizen, didn’t you?” I hissed. He winked. “I always enjoy you being jealous, baby girl. Makes me not seem so crazy.”

I woke to an orgasm, gasping as pleasure surged through my entire body. My eyes flew open to the sight of Camden between my legs, leisurely eating me out.

You know how...on edge you get after a game?” I whispered. “Where you can’t wait to tear my clothes off and fuck me…” Camden stilled, his hand pressing down on my lower back. “Go on,” he urged, his voice suddenly rough. “It seems ballerinas get that way too…Daddy.”

“I would love you no matter what, baby girl,” he growled. “If I had to give up everything to have one day with you—one minute—I would do it. I worship the ground you walk on, not just for your beauty or your talent, but for you. The way you fixed something inside me the second I saw you. The way you complete me in a way I never could have imagined. I love the way you smile, the way you breathe...fucking everything. You own my soul, Anastasia. And if you decided to never dance again right this fucking second...none of that would change.”

My eyes were shiny as I stared at the new family Camden had given me—by themselves, more than I could have ever dreamed. Together, though, they seemed like a miracle.

“You know you’re completely wrong for me,” I whispered.

“But only because I was completely wrong for you…until you made everything right. You’re my hero. Perfectly imperfect. You say you’re obsessed with me, Camden. But I’m obsessed with you right back. All of you.”

A possessive, intense, overwhelming NHL star willing to battle all my demons in whatever way was necessary. The pucking wrong man…turned out to be the right one.

“We talk way too much about dicks in this group,” Lincoln commented. I huffed out a laugh. That was probably true.