Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
My cock connects with the heat of her pussy, and my eyes flicker shut and Iris gasps. Her hands slide to my shoulders and she grips on to me, like she’s preparing herself.
I circle my crown around her clit and down, right at her entrance.
She looks concerned, but it’s not because I’m about to fuck her, it’s because I might not.
“Please, Jack,” she says. “This feels like torture.”
“You’re right,” I say. “After tonight, not being inside you will be forever my own personal torture.”
I slide in, slowly.
Gently.
Pushing into her.
Making her mine.
Her expression cycles, from relief, to bliss, to joy, and then back to relief again.
I keep sliding into her until I’m buried deep, deep, deep.
I take some steadying breaths so I don’t boil over and empty myself into her right there and then.
Her fingernails bite into my skin. “I can’t breathe. I’m going to come. Jack! I’m going to come!”
Fuck. We’ve not started anything yet and she’s already coming on my cock.
“Jack,” she calls out again. “Jack!”
“It’s okay, Iris. Come. Come for me. Come again.”
She sighs and convulses around my cock, still buried deep within her. Her back arches, her body pressing against me, heat against heat.
I press kisses against her neck, as her entire body shakes. She feels so good. So perfect. So mine.
“Jack,” she whispers. “What are you doing to me?”
I pull in a breath. That’s exactly the question I have for her.
“I’m going to move now,” I say. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to come again. And I’m going to memorize every single one of your orgasms. I want to learn how your body works so I can make you come over and over and over.”
“I think you already know my body,” she says.
I want more, I think to myself. I want everything.
I start to move. It feels dangerous somehow. Maybe important is a better description. Fucking her for this first time feels like I’m crossing a threshold. Not just physically with Iris, but in terms of my life.
After tonight, it feels like nothing will ever be the same. Everything will be different.
My orgasm rumbles inside me, like the warning of a storm coming. I want to keep it at bay for as long as possible. I want us to savor these moments together before we both explode again into the next phase of our lives together. Our roads have joined and we’re standing looking at the road ahead and everything is full of promise.
Her fingers slide across my bottom lip. She’s gorgeous, underneath me. Bright. Kind. Brave. But oh so beautiful. And responsive. And warm and so very fucking tight.
“You’re fucking perfect.” I grunt, as I shove up into her.
“Jack,” she chokes out. I love the way she says my name. It’s like no one has ever quite said it like she has. “I’m so full of you.”
I groan at her words. That’s what I want. I want her to be full of me.
She tightens around me. “I don’t know how long I can last,” she says, her eyebrows pulling together in concern, her nails sinking into the flesh of my arms.
“It’s okay. I have you. Fall as hard as you like. I’m here to catch you.” I take her leg under her knee and lift, getting a little deeper into her.
She lets out a scream.
Fuck. Making Iris scream might just be my life’s work.
The slap of flesh against flesh becomes more urgent. It’s like I’m racing to the finish line, and I’m desperate to take Iris with me. I need her with me. I want to see what I can do to her. What we can do together.
Her eyes are glassy, and I press my forehead to hers as she begins to dissolve around me. Our breaths mix, our skin slides against each other.
The final tether of her orgasm snaps and I can’t hold back any longer. My muscles tense, my vision blurs, and I erupt inside her, shouting her name.
“Iris. Iris. Iris.”
She’s a prayer. My future. The beginning and the end of everything.
We’re a tangle of sheets and limbs. I don’t know where I end and she begins and that’s just perfect as far as I’m concerned.
“What time is it?” she asks from where she lies, spread across my chest.
“Four thirty.”
She groans and rolls to her back and then she sits up. “I need to leave.”
“Leave?” I say. “Where are you going?”
“Home, Jack. I need to shower and get to work.”
“At four thirty in the morning?”
“No, but I need to be at my desk before seven. The pickers start at seven. That’s when things start to heat up. My brother’s broken his leg, so now I have to do some deliveries too.” She raises her eyebrows, like she’s daring me to say something. I’m not quite sure what.
“Okay, so I’ll take you back.”