Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Another needy, muted murmur precedes her doing just that.
My woman widens her legs a tad further.
Pops her ass back.
Once.
Twice.
By the time the third occurs, I can’t keep my focus elsewhere.
Each jiggle is like a clap of applause for my cock that has my balls desperate to encourage an encore by making a similar motion.
Stickiness streams down my boys.
Smears itself onto our thighs.
Drowns my finger that’s unremittingly skating around her clit.
Gilly barbarically slams one hand on the countertop prior to using the other to ball the sweater up giving her something else to clutch and me a perfect shot of her tits.
“Fuck, I wish I had those in my mouth,” I mutter, fingers abandoning her shoulder to cascade to her hardened nipple where they lightly brush. “I always want these in my mouth.” Giving them the tiniest tug leads to her wet muscles swelling. “I always want you, Slayer.”
The woman I’m Patsy Cline crazy about slaps the counter in ecstasy a second time, hooded stare growing more so as she watches the way she throws herself into each thrust and shoots to her toes on every jerk and damn near topples over whenever the sound of my balls slapping her pussy reverberates around the room.
Despite the tingling in my nuts trying to bargain with me to just let go, that it’s fine, that I can just bury my face between her thighs to take her where she deserves to go – and she always deserves to go – I don’t deter.
I don’t fuck slower.
I don’t fuck faster.
I don’t divert my attention anywhere else that isn’t her or her beautiful, quivering body.
How can I?
Why the fuck would I?
There’s nothing more fucking incredible in this world than the way seeing the woman I love lost in ecstasy that I deliver.
That she only lets me conjure.
It’s a privy even more meaningful than the crest I’m allowed to wear on my chest.
Euphoric muttering suddenly seeps past her clenched teeth, “Thirty-five…”
There’s no stopping the faltering in my hips or me from panting, “Fuck, Slayer…” Wet waves whirl around my cock faster and more frequent, warning me of how close she is, prompting me to pound quicker and harder while mindlessly mumbling, “Snow me.” My drenched digit crazily caresses, hitching her breath again and again and again. “Send me to pracky with a dub.” An offbeat, deranged combination of pumps and strokes pushes me to ignore the potential cramping in my legs to focus on the tightening in her pussy. “Send me to pracky fucking slayed, baby.”
High pitched screams almost precede her sweltering hot muscles possessively clamping down on my dick in rapid succession.
Not coming when she does isn’t an option.
Not tightening my hold with both hands so that each stifling surge coats her deepest depths is also impossible.
Where I end and she starts and where she ends and I start being interchangeable isn’t a want.
It’s a fucking need.
A need that I thank my lucky blades every moment of every day that she has too.
Chapter 14
Thayne
“Wait,” putting my truck in park precedes me continuing my investigation, “you’re goin’ to the doc…again?” It’s impossible to stop my forehead from crinkling in concern. “You sure you’re alright, Grams?”
“Boy, I’ll be fine,” she brushes off, voice warmly flooding through the speakers. “When you get to be my age, you’re always at the damn doctor. This gettin’ old shit’s a damn Fonzie scheme.”
“Ponzi.”
“Why you bringin’ up Happy Days?” Grams huffs through a cough.
Bronny removes his mouth from his LMC energy drink, clearly prepared to explain the line change issue, when I simply lift my hand up and shake my head to stop him.
“You actually need somethin’ or tryin’ to make sure I ain’t lonely without you boys around?” she sassily investigates.
“I know you miss me,” my little brother states, mirth riddled in his voice.
“Like I miss mowin’ the lawn in the winter.”
“You don’t mow in the winter,” he quickly reminds.
“Mmmhmm,” escapes in a haughty hum.
Yet again, his mouth drops to argue, prompting me to interrupt before I end up even later to unofficial pracky, “Can you swing by Bronny’s old school and have them resend his transfer paperwork, please?”
“Is that why he ain’t in school now? They mess somethin’ up?”
“Unfortunately,” I mumble, tossing a small glance in his direction. “Them and my attorney it seems.”
“You gotta stay on top of folks.”
“I am.” It’s impossible not to smirk. “Gilly’s helpin’.”
“She’s got good taste in shows.”
“She does.”
“She’s a good woman, Thayne.”
“I know.”
“You bes’ be doin’ everything you can to keep her.”
“I am.”
“And you bes’ be plannin’ to make an honest woman out of her.”
“At least once a day.”
“That’s my boy,” she croons although sadly it transitions into a questionable cough. “Now, I need to get inside to my appointment, but I’ll go by the school again afterward.”
“Remember, Dubs is comin’ up this weekend to bring me my new bucket and pads, but on his way, he’s gonna pop in to see you and-”