Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
His cock is hard in his sweats, and I grind down on him as he pushes his hips up and groans in my mouth.
“You’ll have to finish reading to me later,” I whisper against his lips. “If this is what happens.”
“It’s your sweet little body pressed against me, and the way you’re squirming … and I heard you licking your lips. Fuck me, Irish, you’d tempt a fucking saint, and I never claimed to be a saint. I need to be inside you more than I need to breathe.”
He rips my leggings so effortlessly that it makes me gasp.
“Take my cock out, baby.”
I bite my lip and do as I’m told, pushing the elastic of his sweats down and revealing his hard, thick cock. I can’t help but chuckle when it does, indeed, slap against his hard abs.
“Told you,” I mutter as he lifts me and pulls my panties to the side to rub his fingertips over my opening.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I want you. It’s as simple as that,” I reply, but then he’s swearing under me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a condom down here.”
Earlier, he simply came in my mouth. And that was bloody sexy as hell. No one has ever done that before.
“I’m on birth control,” I inform him and bite my lip, suddenly feeling shy. “And it had been years before you.”
He sits up and cups my face, kissing me deeply. “Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes, Beck.”
Without another word, he presses his cock against me, and I’m so bloody wet that he slides right in. The stretch is delicious now and doesn’t sting like it did last night, and I can’t help the moan that comes out of my mouth as I sink over him.
“God, you take me so well,” he groans, and I clench around him. “So damn tight.”
I start to move, and I realize that this is the first time that we’ve been together and I’ve had any sort of physical control, so I take advantage of it. I roll my hips, grab the couch behind him for leverage, and start to move faster, up and down.
“Listen to that,” he murmurs before lifting my shirt and tossing it aside, then licking one of my tight nipples. “You’re goddamn delicious.”
The next thing I know, he’s looped his arm around my waist, and I’m on my back, my legs pushed up, my knees into my chest, with Beck’s face in my core, and an orgasm is right there, ready to consume me.
“Beck!”
“That’s right.” He licks and sucks, and I thrash my head from side to side. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me. You taste incredible.”
His mouth is going to be my undoing.
“You’re not going to come on my face, Irish.”
I hate to break it to him, but it sure feels like I am.
“You’re going to come on my cock.”
“Beck.”
I’m tugging on his shoulders, needing him to move up and push inside me. He hears my unspoken request and kisses his way up my body. He bites a nipple, then has my legs over his shoulders, and he’s inside me again, kissing me.
“Taste yourself. I want you to taste how incredible you are, baby.”
It’s too much. His words, his cock, and the taste of myself overwhelm me, and I swear that I explode into a million pieces, seeing stars and feeling like I’m breaking apart.
With a roar, Beck follows me over, rocking through his climax, and then we’re a tangled, heaving, spent beautiful mess.
And when he raises his head to smile down at me, my heart catches.
“If you’re trying to kill me”—I have to swallow hard—“you’re doing a good job of it, a ghrá.”
He smirks and drags his nose down my jawline, making me shiver. “What did that mean?”
I swallow hard again and frown. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“It’s just an Irish term of endearment.”
He growls against my skin. “Did you know that your accent gets heavier when you’re turned on?”
I smirk and hug him to me as another shiver rolls through me. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Are you cold?” he asks.
“No, those are post-orgasmic tremors.”
He snorts and sucks on my neck, and that only makes my core tighten again.
“Beck.”
“Yes, Irish?”
“You’re heavy.”
He doesn’t pull away, but he does brace himself on his elbows to take some of his weight off me.
And then, like magic, the power comes back on again. I hear the fridge kick on in the kitchen, and the hum of electricity settles around us. Beck lifts his face to look at me.
“Our sexy bubble is over,” I whisper, feeling disappointed as I drag my fingers through his whiskers.
“I’m just happy you’re okay.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been better, and that’s the truth.” But I wiggle beneath him. “I could, however, use some water and the bathroom.”
“You can have whatever you want.”
He lifts himself off me, pulls up the sweats, and takes my hand to help me up. And then, I remember that my leggings are ruined.