Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Pleasure blooms into my skull and I’m moaning too as I suck him.
“Elena,” he says, gasping. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.”
“You want me to stop?” I pull back, stroking him slowly with both hands.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he says, bending down to kiss me. “I want to come between your legs.”
I gasp as he pulls me to my feet. So much for being in control. He drags me to the couch and pulls me into his lap as he sits down and rips my panties aside. I shimmy and my back arches as his tip presses against my soaking pussy, and he slides inside of me like it’s absolutely nothing.
“Oh my god,” I whisper as I begin to glide up and down. He’s so thick and long, and fuck, he fills me to the brim. I’ve never felt this full before in my life. “You feel so good.”
“You’re goddamn tight,” he whispers, his breath hot on my ear. “You keep riding me like that and I’m going to fill you to the fucking brim, baby.”
I go faster, unable to help myself. He licks my nipples and sucks them as he holds onto my hips. I’m panting, trying not to be too loud, but it’s not easy when I’m getting fucked like I’ve never been fucked before. His growls, his groans, the way he looks at me, the way his hands move along my hips like he can’t get enough, it fucking kills me.
“Tell me you like this,” I say, biting his lip.
“I love it. Every single inch of your lovely, wet pussy. I love your lips, and your eyes, and the way you breathe, and your delicious little nipples, and this incredible fucking ass. I love every inch of you, baby, and it’s been goddamn torture not fucking you every single day.”
“Then don’t torture yourself anymore.”
He grunts as he pulls me off him and shoves me down onto the couch, pinning me down and putting my hands above my head. He kisses me, holding me there, controlling me, his massive weight and ripped muscles flexing as he slips my panties off the rest of the way then shoves my legs wide as he licks my clit. I pull his hair, back arching.
“Fuck me,” I beg. “Don’t make me come like that.”
“Tell me you like this,” he says, staring at me with a grin.
“Asshole. I love it. Now fuck me.”
He glides inside of me and my brain goes straight to heaven. My back arches, and he’s licking my nipples as he starts to fill me up again, thrusting deep and slow.
“God, you’re incredible,” he says.
I move my hips against him and we’re in rhythm. The world drops away and it’s only me and him grinding into each other, fucking like there’s no tomorrow. I pant and gasp, and he bites my lips, and I can barely think as he leans forward and whispers in my ear.
“You want me to feel something for you, baby?” He bites my lower lip as I glide up and down his hard dick.
“Yes,” I answer, and I feel so vulnerable and so fucking good as he grips my ass and thrusts deep inside of me, holding me down on him as he fills me and kisses my lips.
“Then work for it, baby.”
We fuck, pure and raw and lovely, and I don’t last much longer before I explode on him. He groans, and maybe it’s the noises I’m making, or the way my cheeks flush red, but he finishes the instant I’m done, stiffening and growling as he unloads between my legs.
“I’m a sweaty mess,” I say, grinning like a moron as he wraps his arms around me. “And we weren’t quiet.”
“Quite enough.” He kisses my neck. “This room’s soundproofed. You could probably scream if you wanted and nobody would hear. Perks of being the boss.”
I slap him lightly. “You could’ve told me that from the start.”
“I want to see you struggling to keep quiet.” He smirks and pats my ass. His cock is still slightly hard and twitching with every beat of his heart. “I guess I’m sadistic.”
“Bastard.” I curl into him and sync my breath to his.
Chapter 27
Brody
Dirty Dan’s is a little corner bar across the street from a shoe store and next to an ice cream place. There are old beer advertisements in the windows from the ‘80s and gorgeous ancient neon signs for brands that don’t exist anymore. The inside’s similar with peeling tables, a chipped bar, and decorations that weren’t new when they were put up thirty years ago.
Instead of seedy, it’s ageless. There’s a lot of green glass and polished wood, and it smells like beer and whiskey. I love places like this, the old neighborhood saloon, the sort of place that has seen its fair share of fights and romances and will probably outlive everyone that ever visits. What it lacks in manners, it makes up for in charm.