Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Arms bent above his head, lips slack, legs spread, he was vulnerable and masculine and unconsciously begging.
Kneeling between the strength of his thighs, she lowered her mouth, hovered over his half-erect penis. A lick around the glans, and she drew him in.
His eyes flew open, and his hands floundered until they found purchase on the rungs of the headboard.
She slid her lips to the tip and kissed the crown. “Good morning.”
“Hell of a way to wake up.” His voice was groggy and sexy as fuck.
Gripping him in hand, she waited. No flinching. No meltdowns. She smiled and worked him back into her mouth. His shaft had doubled in length in a matter of seconds, his balls tighter, higher. She pumped the suction of her lips, circling and flicking her tongue.
The tendons in his neck strained, and his chin jerked toward the ceiling. “Ahhhh, fuck, Charlee.” He panted and grabbed the back of her hair to halt her movements. “Up here. Now.”
Holding him between the careful bite of her teeth, she walked her fingers over the bumps of his abs and up his chest. Watching him do his daily crunches was as arousing as feeling the results beneath her fingertips.
He followed her hands with hooded eyes. No tripped triggers. Had he defeated it? His reaction to touch was unpredictable and the underlying source of it remained locked away, but at that moment, the feeling of sweet victory rushed through her.
He grabbed her wrists, dislodging his dick from her mouth, and pulled her up his body until she straddled his hips. “Ride me.”
A warm wet trickle accompanied the throb between her legs. She curled greedy fingers around him, centered him at her sex. Rocking down his length, she threw her head back and groaned through the riot of stimulation. When her clit bumped the trimmed thicket of his hair, she reached down and traced where her folds wrapped around him.
The corners of his mouth stretched, forming a pinned line, his eyes glued to her hand. “I don’t deserve you.”
Did she forgive him for the drugs? Did she trust him with her safe word? She checked her heart, and it hid behind an even thump, the unhelpful thing.
She didn’t need trust or forgiveness for this. She pinched his nipple, twisted it between her fingers. “Shut up.”
The buck of his pelvis spurred her into motion. Up and down, she rotated her hips around his cock, pulling grunts from low in his throat. His hands shook where they clenched her waist and his thighs flexed beneath her.
“Jesus. Gonna make me come, Charlee. Slow down.”
How sublime it must be to climb to the precipice so easily. She was still circling the bottom of the steep, trying to find a way up. That was okay. This was for him. She gathered her hair on her head and held it there. Pulling in her stomach muscles, she rolled her hips, flowing over him in a liquid movement.
“Beautiful.”
The gruffness in his voice aroused the hairs on her nape. She kept her mop pinned on her head and rocked faster, closing her eyes and memorizing every stroke along her inner walls.
“Feels so good. I can’t…I can’t—” He bent at the waist, arm around her back, and flipped her. Following her down, he thrust his hips and filled her again.
His mouth fell over hers, open and sweeping, parting her lips and tongue nudging inside. His licked lazily, but the exploration consumed her. He tasted clean and human and something else she couldn’t name, but it attached to her recognition of him. A flavor that didn’t belong to anything or anyone. It was wholly Jay.
He drew in and out of her pussy, setting a plateauing pace. Neither building nor slowing. His hands roamed her body with the same deliberation. He seemed to be simply enjoying. Legs entwined, they moved as one. Their bodies rose and fell together, breaths giving and receiving.
Her thoughts flickered to the prior night, the nylon cinctures, the heat of the pole, and the stretch of the plug. She caressed the muscles playing over her, envisioned how much pain they could bear if he chose to unleash his strength. A needy shudder unfurled through her limbs.
She raised her chin and found him watching her from inches away. His hips ground into her, harder and less-controlled with each rotation. Lips parted, eyes dilated, his inhales deepened. “Come with me.”
If only. She let that hope disintegrate before it could grip her.
His hand shot up and squeezed her throat, not hurting, but digging in enough to paralyze her breath and cut her voice. His gaze bore into hers, his expression unreadable, but there were no signs of teasing. The pressure on her jugular was serious. Did he know what he was doing? If he pressed too hard, too long, he could choke her.