Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Deeper,” I say, hissing loudly. “I love it when you go deep like that.”
“I feel your pussy pulsing around my cock.”
“It’s about to go off again if you keep this up.”
My tits hang heavily, aching from the orgasm building in my core. I arch my back, rocking into him thrust for thrust, the world around us nothing but a distant fog. I never come from this position, but it seems that’s about to change.
A moan slips from my parted lips, and I whimper as his fingers nearly touch my hip bones. Deep pressure builds between my legs as they begin to shake.
“I’m going to come,” I say, unable to stave it off. “I can’t stop it.”
“Don’t. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
I pant, shivering as the intensity builds. Drake tenses behind me, and I sense he’s trying to wait on me to come before he lets go. The thought of him coming inside me does it.
“Fuck!” I scream, this one far more powerful than the first.
He drives into me, his grip flexing against my skin. I look over my shoulder to see his head tipped back and his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Every muscle is tense as he growls into the air.
I did this to him.
His motions grow slower, and I gently tumble back to reality. His body has one final tremble before he sags in satiated relief. A smile touches his lips that I haven’t seen before, and it’s my new favorite.
“A-plus work,” I say, wincing as he pulls out of me. A drop of cum falls onto my leg. “That’s fun.”
He chuckles. “Want me to run you a bath?” He pauses. “Do you have a bath?”
I laugh, too. He’s going to make me come like that and not flee immediately so that he can run me a bath? Wow. I decide to push it—to see how far he’ll really go.
“I would like that on one condition,” I say.
“Name it.”
“If you take it with me.”
He shrugs casually. “Done.”
I fall backward into the comforter and watch him walk into my bathroom like he owns the place. With confidence and maturity.
And one hell of a cock.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Drake
“Did you find all of your clothes?” Gianna asks, pulling a tank over her head. The tight top mixed with her baggy sweatpants is quite possibly hotter than her miniskirts and heels.
“I thought one sock was a goner, but it was under a cookie tin.”
“For the buttons,” she nods as if this makes sense.
“Yup. For the buttons.”
After our two-hour bath and a blow job, I searched for the clothes we’d discarded in the foyer. Gianna stayed behind, finding clean clothes of her own, and it gave me a moment to take in her personal space. It was both exactly as I envisioned and utterly different from what I expected.
There are pieces of projects lying everywhere. A massive canvas in the living room. Buttons all over the floor. Scrapbooks piled so high in one corner that I’m shocked they didn’t fall over during our rendezvous in the foyer. I expected as much. What surprised me was how much it felt like a home.
There are personal touches everywhere—pictures, trinkets, little succulents lining the windowsill in the kitchen. Throw blankets on every chair. It feels lived-in and comfortable, and if the walls could talk, I’m sure they’d tell stories for days.
“So what happens now? Do you leave?” She pauses. “Do you stay?” Her tone shifts higher, as if this option is her favorite. But quickly her brows tug together. “Hey, where is my phone?”
I laugh. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Did you bring it in?”
I plant a wet, loud kiss on her lips. “All I remember is that you opened the door wearing basically nothing.” I shrug. “Where’s your phone? Is my car still running? Did we shut the front door? Hell if I know.”
Would anyone blame me for blacking out? Gianna Bardot is a siren on a bad day, but dressed—barely—in a red silk kimono? No words were available. My brain shut down of all thoughts except for making her mine.
“Okay, but give me some credit,” she says, smiling proudly. “My plan was brilliant.”
“Did you have someone call it so it would ring? Or was that a coincidence?”
She snorts. “Of course, I did. Astrid called you repeatedly, so you’d come right back. In the meantime, I was rushing around here trying to look cute, smell cute, and be as irresistible as I could.”
“Your irresistibility score wasn’t what kept this from happening before. You know that, right?”
Her shoulders rise and fall as if it doesn’t matter anymore. But it does to me.
“Do you want a snack?” she asks. “I always need a snack after sex.”
“Does this mean you want me to stick around?”
She looks at me over her shoulder, leading me out of her bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere until we have at least one more round.”