Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Never what?” My mouth quirks. So much amusement in those tiny words.
“I’ve never done that before.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
“Heard—”
“Never has anyone demanded that my face have sex with them.”
“Urgh. Stop!” She throws her arms across her eyes.
Are women who hire gigolos meant to be this fucking cute? “I liked it,” I kind of growl. “I liked it a whole fuckin’ lot.”
Her arm doesn’t move, but she holds up two fingers. Not an insult. “I’ve never come twice in such quick succession.”
“No?”
“I’m pretty sure I saw stars being born.”
I bite in a smile, not wanting to be accused of being a peacock. Ah, fuck it. “Ever seen a supernova?” I pull a condom from my pocket, from a packet I picked up in the second jacks—bathroom—I visited. So not a complete lie. Placing it on the edge of the table, I unbuckle my belt and begin to strip.
“You are so cocky.” No prizes for guessing where her eyes fall. “I guess you have the goods to support the hypothesis?”
“So this is where you expect me to slap a massive schlong on the tabletop,” I say, hearkening back to an earlier moment. A previous conversation.
“A girl can hope.”
Hope we’re paid by the inch? I push the thought away. Inch-wise, I’m doing just fine. It’s my dodging of the truth that ought to bother me. And maybe it will. When the blood has returned to my brain.
Belt buckle loose, my pants drop to the floor, and I kick them away. With a deep exhale, I run my hand down my chest and the ridges of my stomach, playing my part. Only, this doesn’t feel like pretend or just getting my rocks off. It feels . . . like everything that can be right between two bodies. Between two souls.
“You’re all about the tease, aren’t you?” Despite her bold words, her voice wavers. Maybe because I’ve stuck my hand into my boxers to give my poor, neglected cock an experimental tug.
I give a low groan as my head rolls back. “Takes a tease to know a tease.” My answer is low and rumbling as I slide my other hand under the waistband.
“Two hands?” she asks, before her teeth dig into her lip.
“I thought two hands were supposed to be better than one.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she whispers, and with that, she brings one heel to the table. She lets her knee fall, exposing the center of her femininity.
“Teacup,” I say on a groan, “you don’t play fair.”
“Never have, never intend to.” She swipes a slow finger through her wetness. Fuck me, she is amazing. “Oh!” she adds as I whip off my pants.
I flip the condom up and tear the corner with my teeth before unceremoniously sheathing my straining cock. Like I’ve done hundreds of times. But never like this. Never with a tremor in my hand and a desperation clawing at my guts with a need to plunge. To pillage.
I grab her hips and slide her to the edge of the table. My hands look huge against her, my skin dark where she’s pale. I grit my teeth as I line myself up, white-hot need pulsing through me.
“Matt?”
I glance up. “You really are a good man.”
I don’t answer—can’t for the sudden lump in my throat. Guilt, I think. Contempt for myself, maybe. But desire wins out. Isn’t it always the trump card? Especially as her hips tilt to meet mine, her fingers reaching out to curl around my shoulders.
“You’re worth a hundred of them,” I whisper. A hundred of me, I think as my mouth catches hers. Breath frozen half in and half out—both of us. I drive my way inside, swallowing the sound she makes.
This. The sentiment beats in my chest as I hold her there, pulsing around me. Me in her. Her in me, somehow.
As I retreat, her back arches with a silent plea.
“Please, I—”
I grant her appeal, dropping my head to her shoulder with a curse as I watch the wet, ruddy slide of my cock. “Fuck.” My whole body quivers as she draws the inside of her foot along my thigh. I kiss her, wetly and messily, and the noises we make are multilayered. Feminine moans and rough grunts, sharp gasps and ragged breaths. “Me encanta el sabor de tu coño.” I love the taste of your pussy. Fuck, yes, I do.
“That sounds so hot.” A gasp. “Spanish.”
“You’re hot,” I say, surprised I slid into the language. “And you feel so fucking good.”
“Not . . . not . . . that I don’t like the way you usually speak. I should’ve made my boyfriend Irish.” Her words almost run together.
“You like a bit of the Irish,” I assert, laying my accent on thick.
“I like it from you.” Her eyes are dark and glossy as I slide my hands under her backside, her body an elegant arch. I bring her closer. Closer to me. To the edge of the table. To ecstasy.