Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Fucking clothes,” I curse, shoving her dress up to give her more room to maneuver, shuddering in relief as her thighs spread on either side of mine.
“Hate them.” She tugs my jumper over my head, then my undershirt, humming in satisfaction as she tosses the last terrible piece of fabric away. “There. God, there you are.” She exhales a shaky sigh as her hands find my bare skin. “I’ve never wanted to be naked with someone this much.”
“Likewise, Darling.” I peel her dress over her head, losing the ability to breathe as it floats to the carpet, leaving her in nothing but those tiny lace panties.
“You are so beautiful,” I rasp, skimming reverent hands down her sides to the curves of her hips. “I seriously can hardly bear it, Em.”
“You, too.” She presses down against me, her heat searing me through my pants. “You’re beautiful, too.” She bites her lip. “And so hard…” She braces her hands on my shoulders, rolling her hips against my cock in a way that realigns the universe as she whispers, “So why aren’t you inside me, Oliver?”
Christ, my name on her lips is enough to make me savage.
I lean in, capturing her nipple in my mouth. I lick and suck and bite until she’s crying out, her nails scoring into my shoulders as we rock together. I squeeze her ass, she tugs at my hair, and then we’re kissing again, even wilder than before. This kiss is frantic, unhinged in the best way, and soon, she’s squirming on my thigh with breathy moans, and I’m seconds from coming in my pants if we don’t—
“Bed,” I choke out, fingers digging into her hips to slow her down. “Let me—”
“No. Here.” She fumbles at the close of my pants, her breath coming as fast as mine. “Now. Please.”
Between us, we manage to free what’s necessary and then, “Christ, Emily,” I cry out as she sinks onto my cock, bathing me in pleasure so intense I can barely stand it.
It’s too good.
Too right.
“Fuck,” I gasp against her throat, holding her tight. “Don’t move. Not yet. Just a minute, love. I need a minute.”
She shudders, but stills, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m going to need all night,” she rasps against my temple. “I’m never going to get enough of you, Olly. Never.”
“Never, Red,” I agree, voice raw, ravaged by the things she does to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.” Willing my cock to strap in and hold on, I whisper, “Now, ride me, darling. Ride me like you mean it.”
Then she starts to move, and I’m lost.
Lost and so glad to be lost because I’m out in the wilderness with her.
She rides me like she’s never needed anything as much as my cock, shameless and needy, and I have never been happier. Never. Because I need her just as fucking much. I grip her hips, thrusting up to meet her, driving deep into her sweet pussy, knowing no other will ever compare.
I am ruined for all other pussies.
All other women.
As her breasts bounce and her hair writhes around us like a living thing, I do my best to hold on, but she’s a force of nature, and I’ve been on edge for hours.
But hell, I really don’t want to go without her…
Reaching between us, I press my thumb to her clit. Rubbing, circling, silently begging her to come with me, and finally—Oh God. Fuck! God, this woman—she cries out, convulsing around me.
“Emily. God, Emily.” I bury my face in her neck as I cry her name, shuddering hard, filling her while she makes desperately happy sounds that are music to my ears.
Afterward, we stay tangled together for a long time. Her, catching her breath in my lap with my cock still buried inside her. Me, wondering if it’s too soon to ask her to marry me.
Or at least move in. Forever.
“Should we…talk?” she finally whispers against my shoulder.
“We should,” I say, stroking her bare back. “But maybe later? In the morning?”
I can’t talk now. I’m too close to the edge. I might actually ask her to move in with me, and that’s not a conversation to be approached on impulse at two in the morning. I need to plan, prepare, and make an Emily-grade list explaining why this is worth the risk and all the things I’ll do to keep her emotionally, physically, and financially safe as she transitions.
“I think so. We should probably conserve our energy,” she says, the husky note in her voice enough to have me getting thicker all over again. “I still have things I want to do to you with my mouth.”
Cursing, I mutter, “Your mouth on me may have to wait, love. You need to be fucked in a bed first. Most urgently. And I know just the man for the job.”