Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?” Each of my words was punctuated by a grunt as he thrust into me.
He shook his head, his lips pressing into a grimace.
He wasn’t okay?
“Fuck,” he growled, throwing caution to the wind. He leaned to catch my mouth in a kiss that was pure tender violence, a clash of teeth and tongues, of fast strokes and slow burn.
I convulsed around him, a firestorm climbing up my spine, my muscles clutching, burning, toes curling as the orgasm tore through me like a volcano, the lava spurting in waves as I rocked against his cock, my abs tight while he still pumped into me.
My climax subsided gradually, euphoria slinking under my skin like warm milk on a winter night. Tate grunted and arched, coming hard inside me. He pumped lazily into me for a few seconds before pulling out inch by inch, arrogantly reminding me how long his shaft was.
My husband stepped aside, hoisting me over the counter, flattening my skirts against my stomach so we both had a good look at my pussy. He parted my thighs with his fingers, staring.
“Look at that pretty defiance of yours now, trickling down your inner thigh,” Tate cooed mockingly. “How adorable.” He trailed his index finger along my inner thigh.
I watched in fascination as he tucked his cloudy, thick cum back between my folds. Not only did he put his stringy seed inside, but he pushed two fingers, filling me to the hilt. I gasped uncomfortably when I thought he reached my actual uterus, squirming away from him.
“Be a good guest, and keep it in. Don’t wanna dirty your friends’ kitchen.”
The haze of the orgasm completely undid me, though. If having mind-blowing sex on your best friend’s kitchen counter was wrong, then I didn’t want to be right.
“I’m on the pill.” I slapped his hand away, slowly reclaiming my sanity. “So forget about little Lucifers running around anytime soon.”
“We’ll see about that.” He stood back and smoothed out his suit and bow tie.
“You won’t trap me by impregnating me.” I frantically pushed down my dress. He seemed like the type to change your birth control into Tic Tacs.
“Gia, stop talking about leaving. It’s not fucking happening. Before or after your mother dies.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that I don’t love you?”
I had to leave because I was falling for him.
Because he would never love me, and I’d have to live with the tragedy of it, day in and day out.
“Darling.” He bent down to give me a cold peck on the lips, patting my head. “That’s a bonus.”
Row and Cal swanned out of the hallway. They were both bright red.
“Are you decent?” Cal had her hand flung over her eyes.
“Yeah,” I squeaked, horrified. “I’m so, so sorr—”
“I just want you to know, my wife’s pussy is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten in your damn kitchen,” Tate announced in his no-bullshit tone. “No close seconds.”
Lord.
Row screeched to a stop in front of him, blowing a hot breath. They were nose-to-nose, and both looked ready to kill each other.
“You crossed every fucking line tonight, and it’s not even seven o’clock,” Row informed him.
Tate looked unbothered. “Send me the bi—”
“There won’t be a bill. I’m burning this fucking condo to the ground after your spunk was released here. Hell, I’ll probably have Cal and my daughter move to a hotel tonight.” Row pointed at the floor, seething. “You’re buying me the Park Avenue apartment we went to see together.”
“That shithole’s still on the market?” Tate elevated a bored eyebrow. “It’s been three months.”
“Still for sale,” Row spat.
“It’s yours.” As Tate put his hand on my lower back and ushered me outside, he whispered in my ear, “Measly price to pay for the best fuck of my life.”
The drive to the engagement party was awkward, but at least we weren’t being followed anymore. The silence sat between the four of us like a ten-ton elephant.
Finally, Cal sighed. “Please, can we move on from this little oopsie? Row and I once did it on his prep station in Descartes. He was lucky he closed the restaurant voluntarily or it’d have been shut down.” She bit down on her lower lip.
Row narrowed his eyes at Tate. “That was in my kitchen, my station. Tate is welcome to do whatever the fuck he wants on his property. Preferably drop dead.”
“Gonna live till I’m a hundred and twenty just to spite you.” Tate smirked wolfishly, one arm slung over my shoulder. “Also, may I remind you that time in my Montauk Jacuzzi three months ago?”
Row scowled. “How do you even know that? You weren’t home.”
“CCTV.”
“You were spying on us?” Row shrieked.
“I only watched the first five seconds before I added it to a PornHub compilation as retaliation. Nobody wants to bathe in your jizz, Row.”
Row unbuckled quickly, ready to pounce on him, before I yelped, “He’s kidding! He’s kidding.”