Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“But I’m your devil,” I say.
Our gazes lock. We’re teasing each other, but at the same time we’re telling each other something profound. I accept her exactly as she is. I know her. And I’m hers.
In this moment, it’s all true. I feel completely connected to her, completely open to her, and completely dedicated to her.
“Hunter,” she says, her tone reverent this time.
I press my lips to hers, and our tongues slip together like we’re sealing some kind of promise. Like this became less about urgent fucking, physical need, and desperate release and more about a union. A joining of minds, bodies, and souls.
Pleasure rachets up like a car climbing the summit of a roller coaster. Our kisses turn sloppy and wayward. There’s too much to focus on, too much to feel.
She opens her legs wider, and I push deeper, wanting to be closer. Wanting to be a part of her. Her fingers trail down my back, and her breathing comes heavier, her body jerking underneath me.
“Hunter, I’m close.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “Let me watch you.”
Her gaze glazes over, and I press into her, pushing her orgasm to the surface. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
She opens her eyes as she floats back down, and the connection breaks the last tether of my climax. I push into her, keeping my gaze on her the entire time.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What was that?
She hooks her leg up over my hip and trails her fingers up and down my arm. All I can do is think how I never want this to end. How I want to stay in my bed with her forever.
“You okay?” she asks me.
I mumble an affirmative response, and she lets out a small giggle I haven’t heard from her before. I realize I want to hear every type of laugh she has. See every smile, every tear. I want it all.
“For the record, I can confirm that it’s not all for show.”
I grin at her reference to my cock. “Good to know,” I say.
Her fingers wander. Over my shoulder, my collarbone, down my chest.
It’s all too good. She feels so good. Everything about her is exceptional.
I reach for her breasts. I’ve been so caught up with desire for her, I’ve overlooked each individual part of her. I have no idea how that’s possible when she’s got the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen. They’re pressed together as she lies on her side, her nipples jutting out, sharp and pointed, red and luscious.
I smooth my hands over her soft flesh, my thumb circling her nipple as she runs her hands over my neck, my jaw, my arm.
She moans as I play with her nipples. I can feel my cock harden again. I’m not sure how that’s possible so soon.
She notices and drags her hand over my balls and up my shaft. Things shift in an instant. Instead of a slow, languishing exploration, everything becomes more urgent. I take a breast in each hand and knead them together and tease and flick her nipples. Her leg is still over my hip, and she bucks, pulling our bodies closer.
“More, baby?”
“Always more,” she says.
She doesn’t have to ask twice. I reach back for another condom, and she takes it from me.
“It’s tight,” she says as she rolls it on. “You’re almost too big.”
She knows exactly what to say to make me hard as fucking steel.
She grips my cock at the shaft and glances up at me. She sighs and shifts. We both move so I’m on my back and she’s astride me. She keeps hold of my cock and moves the crown through her folds. I wish I could be bare to feel that. To feel her. I want to be closer. To get more of her, if that’s even possible.
She positions the head of my cock at her entrance and pauses, glancing at me before sinking down.
Her eyes flutter shut, like sitting on my cock is the most blissful thing that’s ever happened to her. I really hope it is. I want to give her every blissful moment in her goddamn life. I want to be by her side when anything good happens to her so I can see the happiness in her eyes.
Her back arches and her breasts thrust forward and I catch them. Their weight in my hands is perfect. I smooth my hands down to her waist, and she begins to move, flicking her hips forward and back, driving me deeper and deeper into her.
Seeing her on top of me like this, her hair splayed out over her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her legs clamped either side of me . . . It doesn’t get any better. For a fleeting second, I wonder why we didn’t do this earlier. Why didn’t we sleep together while we were in Martha’s Vineyard? Then I realize it wouldn’t have been possible. If we’d done this all night, we would have never wanted to stop. We’d have wanted to stay naked, exploring each other the entire weekend. Being with Lucy is addictive, even without the sex. The more time I spend with her, the more I want from her. I wonder whether that feeling will ever stop.