Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
“Fuck!” The word punches from my chest, louder than the water, the only thing I have left as she works every drop of cum from me. She holds me there, drawing it out, every muscle wound tight, until I’m completely spent, completely hers.
Finally, I drag her up, swallowing her breathless laugh as I pin her to the wall, my mouth everywhere at once. “Hope you’re ready, Sage,” I growl, letting my hands do all the things I've been dreaming of since she surprised me. “‘Cause I’m gonna fuck you silly.”
She’s so damned irresistible, I lose my mind. I can’t keep it reined in. I grip her harder, fingers sliding as they try to find purchase against her dripping skin.
She makes a sound, a whimper that shoots straight through me, and I have to bite back the urge to come again right then and there. We’re a tangle of wet limbs, a rush of heat and water, our bodies slick with steam.
Her hand scrambles against the tile as I lift her, blind and frantic for the feel of her around me.
“I-an!” Her voice is a desperate, broken cry that fills the shower, and my name on her lips is all I need, all I can hear.
Every pulse and throb as I thrust in is a jolt that pushes us further over the edge, wild and reckless and lost. Her nails dig urgent crescents into my shoulders, pulling me closer, urging me on, and the flash of heat is impossible to fight. I’m gone, drowning in her, and I can’t pretend to keep it together.
Our bodies crash together, frantic and fast, her gasps mingling with the roar of the steam. Each breath is a plea, a demand, and I answer with a raw, desperate rhythm that makes me savage with need. Her legs are tight around me, and I don’t know where she ends and I begin.
“Fuck!” I groan, hoarse and out of control like the word has ripped its way out of me.
I’m wild, so wild, and the whole world narrows to this perfect, dizzy point.
Sunlight spills across the expansive field, illuminating a kaleidoscope of scattered balloons and a swarm of energetic children darting in every direction like fireflies at dusk.
Parents converge in cheerful clusters, their voices merging into a lively chorus. I busily prepare for the school picnic alongside Eloise, attempting to drape a vibrant string of bunting while simultaneously managing a whirlwind of tasks.
As I inspect the neatly arranged tables, my gaze flickers repeatedly toward the park entrance, eagerly scanning for Ian's arrival.
"I'm dying in this heat," Eloise complains, tying up her curly hair with a swift twist of her wrist. "I’m definitely not an outdoorsy girl."
"I hear you," I chuckle, adjusting a teetering pile of cups. “The day will be over before you know it.”
“I seriously doubt that.” She blows little strands of hair out of her eyes.
The playground behind us explodes with sound as a pack of kids hurtles past, racing each other to a bouncy house set up near the field's edge.
Eloise drapes an arm around my shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she leans in. "Where’s Ian?"
"I guess he’s running late." I shrug and scan the entrance for Ian as if staring hard enough will make him appear.
"Relax, he'll show up. That guy is absolutely head over heels for you. It's nauseating," she says, mimicking a gagging sound, causing me to roll my eyes.
The aroma of grilled hot dogs wafts over, mingling with the fresh, earthy scent of cut grass. Nearby, a bunch of dads have lined up their smokers, and the lively discussion about charcoal versus gas is already in full swing.
We're almost done when more families pour in, blankets and lawn chairs under their arms, claiming spots on the grass like they’re front-row seats at a concert. The sound level spikes as the crowd swells, turning the whole field into a playground.
A dad I've seen around but never learned the name of catches my attention. "Ms. Higgins," he calls, waving an arm as he approaches. He's got two toddlers strapped to his chest and a wide grin that makes me wonder what kind of caffeine supercharge he's on. "Everything starts at one, right? Or are we late?"
"You're right on time," I assure him, returning his enthusiasm with a smile of my own. He veers off to join another set of parents who are already breaking into their picnic basket, sipping iced teas, and sharing insider gossip about the school's next principal.
That's when I see him.
Ian emerges from the sea of people, moving with an effortless grace that seems to part the crowd like a gentle wave. His dark hair dances with the breeze, and even from a distance, I can see the familiar intensity in his eyes as they lock onto mine, making me momentarily forget how to breathe. The world narrows down to this singular moment.