Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Outside, the world is silent. Inside, all that matters is the heat between us, the promise of another hour before the sun rises and the rest of the world catches up.
The steam rises around us, thick and fucking suffocating, but I don’t give a shit because Isla’s body is pressed against mine, slick and glistening under the hot spray. She steps in behind me, her tits brushing against my back, and I can feel her nipples stiffen against my skin. Her hands slide down my sides, nails digging in just enough to make me groan, and fuck, I’m already hard as a goddamn rock.
“Thought we could conserve water,” she purrs, her voice dripping with that sass I can’t get enough of. She’s got this fucking smirk on her face, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and Christ, she’s not wrong.
I don’t waste a second. My hands grab her hips, pulling her closer until there’s no space between us. Her skin is slippery and warm, and I can feel every fucking curve of her body pressing into mine. My cock throbs against her stomach, and she lets out this little gasp that goes straight to my dick.
“I’m all for conservation,” I growl, my voice rough as I lean down to capture her lips. She kisses me back like she’s been starving for it, her tongue slipping into my mouth, hot and wet and fucking perfect. My hands slide down to grab her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her moan into my mouth.
I drop to my knees in the shower, the water cascading over us as I spread her legs apart. Her pussy is right there, glistening and pink, and I can already smell her, sweet and fucking irresistible. I grip her thighs, pulling her closer, and bury my face between her legs.
She tastes like heaven, like fucking sin, and I can’t get enough. My tongue flicks over her clit, slow and deliberate, and she lets out this whimper that makes my cock twitch. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit that spot that makes her buck against my mouth. Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling hard enough to make me groan against her pussy.
“Right there,” she gasps, grinding against my face like she can’t get enough. Her thighs tremble around my head, and I know she’s close. I lick faster, sucking her clit into my mouth as my fingers pump in and out of her, and she comes with a fucking scream that echoes off the shower tiles.
I don’t give her a second to recover. I’m on my feet in an instant, pinning her against the wall. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I line myself up, pressing the tip of my cock against her soaked entrance. She’s still trembling from her orgasm, but she’s looking at me like she wants more, and I’m happy to oblige.
I slam into her, hard and deep, and she lets out a whimpering moan that goes straight to my dick. Her pussy is tight and hot, squeezing me like a fucking vice, and I can’t stop myself from thrusting harder, faster. Her nails dig into my shoulders, leaving marks I know I’ll fucking love later.
“You feel so fucking good,” I groan, my voice ragged as I pound into her. Her tits bounce with every thrust, and I lean down to suck one into my mouth, biting down just enough to make her gasp. She’s babbling nonsense, her hips rocking against mine, and I know she’s close again.
I reach between us, rubbing her clit as I fuck her, and she comes apart around me, her pussy clamping down like she’s trying to milk every fucking drop out of me. I’m not far behind, slamming into her one last time before I’m spilling myself inside her, my body trembling with the force of it.
We stay like that for a moment, panting and soaked, and then she looks up at me with that fucking smirk again. “We probably didn’t conserve much water,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh as I pull her in for another kiss.
Fuck, this woman is going to be the death of me. What a way to goddamn go.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ISLA
I’ve never had a panic attack in my life, but I’m about three seconds from one as we turn onto the long gravel drive that leads to the Hot home.
Oh man. “I’m about to barf up the cup of coffee I inhaled before we left the apartment.”
Dawson flashes me that perfect, infuriating grin as he parks in front of the large home. He hops out, walks around to my side of the vehicle, and helps me out of the small little sports car. “They’re going to love you. Stop worrying.”
Before I can fire back a response, the front door slams open and Dawson’s mom barrels down the porch steps. She’s shorter than I expected, a soft blonde tornado in a white t-shirt and black yoga pants, and she beelines for me.