Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I wanted to feel her body under mine, wanted to feel the way her sweet little cunt would squeeze my cock. I didn’t want to just fuck her, I wanted to become consumed in her, and I would have until her friend begged her to leave.
I get it. Shit happens and I’d never hold that against her, but I won’t lie, watching her leave Vixen before I could even have a taste was disappointing, and I knew my chances of ever seeing her again were slim. She’s not someone I’ve ever seen at the club, and I wasn’t about to be that creep who hacks into the system and steals her information. When she walked away, I had no choice but to come to terms with the fact it was never going to happen, despite not being able to get her out of my head these past few days.
My cock is practically raw from jerking off in my shower, trying to work her out of my system, but it’s impossible. I won’t be able to move past this until I’ve had her.
Imagine my surprise when I walk into my home to find the spitfire sitting on my couch with every intention to fuck my son. She can have at him if that’s what she wants, but there’s no denying he can’t fuck her the way she needs.
I saw how she came at Vixen, the way her orgasm exploded through her body, and as much as I love my son, he’s not capable of giving her what she really wants. That much was clear when I went down to figure out what the fuck I was going to feed this girl for dinner and found Zephyr deep inside her.
She was riding him the way I’ve imagined her riding me, that sexy body rolling and thrusting as her tits bobbed in my face. She’s a wild vixen, and it’ll take a fucking beast to tame that intensity. Luckily for her, that’s exactly what I intend to do.
She was fucking gorgeous riding him, and when I touched her and pinched those pretty nipples, her whole body buzzed with electricity. She was so fucking responsive to me, and I can’t wait to see just how far that goes.
Is it wrong to want to fuck my son’s new girlfriend? Probably. But is that going to stop me? Hell no.
There’s no denying it now. I see how she wants it, see how she comes alive when those blazing green eyes are on me. She needs to see this through just as much as I do. And as far as Zephyr is concerned, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Fuck. I sound like such a dick. But we all know that Tilly isn’t Zeph’s endgame, and from the sound of the constant fucking that’s been going down since the moment I got home, they’re both getting what they wanted out of this arrangement. Now, if he were in love with her, I’d find a way to shelve this intense need to fuck his girl, but until then, I need to get this out of my system.
It’s well past midnight, and I sit in my living room, the smell of sex in the air—the smell of her in the air.
They’ve fucked right through dinner, and I’ve listened to Zeph give her lackluster orgasms all night to the point, I’m almost certain she faked the last two.
Poor girl. It’s almost as though I’m now required to fuck her, just to do the Di Rozé name justice.
It’s been quiet for the better part of twenty minutes, and as I sip my whiskey, contemplating just how far I’m willing to take this with Tilly, I hear the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs. They’re too soft and careful to belong to Zeph, so I can only assume it’s Tilly.
I track her steps, able to picture her so perfectly on the stairs, trying to sneak out of Zeph’s room and through the silence of my home. Is she trying to slip out in the middle of the night, plagued by regrets, or has she finally had her fill of my son and has come looking for me?
Fuck. What kind of egotistical bullshit is that?
Am I that full of myself to assume this beautiful girl is slipping out of my son’s room to come please me after spending a good portion of the night screwing my son?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Tilly reaches the bottom step, and I sit in the dark living room, waiting to see what she’ll do. She could either continue straight and head through the foyer and out my front door, or she could swing around to the right and into the living room.
The anticipation almost kills me, and I’m just seconds from getting to my feet to get a better view, not okay with the possibility of her leaving without getting to lay my eyes on her one last time. If she chooses to leave, then I have to be okay with it. I won’t chase her out the door, begging her to stay, but if she does choose to stay and those blazing green eyes come to mine with that same intensity I felt in the club and earlier tonight, I don’t know if I’d be able to resist.