Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I strive for no color to be seen by reaching between us and rolling her clit with my thumb.
“I need you to come for me again, printsessa. Give my sperm clear passage to your egg like a good little wifey.”
Miranda’s grip of the bedding is so rigid her knuckles go white. She moans through every thrust and accepts me without protest.
She feels so good.
Tight.
Wet.
About to be carrying my kin.
We dumped her birth control the day we wed, and although Miranda said it might take a few weeks to leave her system, we’ve been acting as if its ineffectiveness is immediate.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I pushed my sperm back inside her before it gets close to smudging the pillow I stuff under her ass to heighten the chances of conception.
That’s how fucking obsessed I am of the idea of her stomach being swollen with my child.
I love her curves, but wondering how they’ll develop while she’s growing my child… fuck.
I fuck her harder. Faster. I drive into her so ruefully the emasculating pink bed frame she bought to stick it to Roy bounces across the wooden floorboards of her bedroom.
The same word falls from my mouth with every skid.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
The possessiveness of my pumps and the swivels of my thumb on her clit bring Miranda’s screams up to an ear-piercing level.
Beads of sweat roll off my cheeks and dot the mound of her pussy, adding to the slickness coating my shaft.
She’s so close to release again that I can taste her arousal on the tip of my tongue.
“Oh…” Her back arches as her head thrusts back. “I’m… I’m…”
“Give it to me, printsessa. Come on my dick. Strangle it with the greedy sucks of your pussy.”
Miranda stills, then moans, her expression both beautiful and destroyed.
I’ve lost count to the number of orgasms she’s faced today, but each one is more powerful than the one before it.
Her climax lasts for an eternity and zaps the last of her energy.
She’s floppy and pliable by the time she finishes shaking, exactly how I want her.
I continue pumping into her, admiring the heavy rise and fall of her chest, before I bury myself deep inside her and then grunt through a brutal release.
Her beautiful eyes snap open when my hot, salty sperm pumps inside her, filling her already brimming pussy.
Moaning, she massages my twitching shaft, milking me of every drop of cum while maintaining eye contact.
It is intimate as fuck and proves what I have always known.
She has me by both the balls and my heart.
“I’ll forget how to use my wings if you forever carry me everywhere.”
I grunt like I’m not opposed to the idea before I continue moving through her home, dodging Tempy’s excited twirls and begs. We fucked on the couch downstairs because we were too impatient to climb the stairs, and then Miranda rested while my sperm hopefully worked its magic.
I wouldn’t have moved her if it weren’t important.
“Do you want to shower before getting dressed? Or are you happy getting around smelling like my cum?”
I’m hard enough to drill the Antarctic when the lusty gleam in her eyes answers my question on her behalf.
I set her down in front of her walk-in closet before returning to the living room to collect Tempy. The deck outside catches as much sun as the one on the second-floor balcony, but the sun is dropping quicker now that Christmas has passed.
It’s colder than a witch’s tit—another strong point as to why I needed to wake Miranda.
“Where are we going, again?” Miranda asks from inside her closet, aware of my return from Tempy whining when I place her down. She’s as obsessed with licking my face as I am of licking her owner’s delicious pussy.
When I growl, Miranda pops her head out of the closet. “I was just asking so I can coordinate the perfect outfit. I don’t want to look frumpy.” Her last sentence is a whisper, but not even a tornado siren could have me missing it.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
She’d usually reevaluate her words when it puts me on the warpath to restore the confidence a worthless prick stole from her, but this time, she repeats them. “I don’t want to look frumpy.”
As I join her in the closet, I run the short list of people she interacted with today through my head. I don’t care that they’re a member of Nikolai’s crew. I’ll kill them without a second thought if they’re responsible for her dip in confidence.
“What was the name of that punk with the buck teeth who opened the door for you today? The valet.”
Miranda shrugs. “I don’t know.”
She’s lying. I know this, and so does she.
“Acting daft won’t save him from my wrath, butterfly. If he said something bad to you, he’s dead.”
“He didn’t say anything bad.”