Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He goes faster, faster, takes me deeper. I moan, kissing him, pulling his hair, digging my fingers into his back. We writhe together as he fucks me, our bodies moving in tandem, sweat dripping down our skin. Faster, his breath on my throat. Fuck, faster, I need him so badly it’s like I’m going to crumble to pieces if he doesn’t give me what I want.
“God, you feel like fucking heaven,” he says in my ear. “Fuck, Fiona, you feel so good. So tight and warm. God, I want to fill you to the fucking brim.”
“Do it,” I pant, moaning. “Do it, fuck me, Gareth. Fill me.”
“Fiona,” he growls, barely restraining himself, fucking me harder, faster, grinding so his piercing rubs me, and when he pulls my hair, I know I’m done, I’m finished.
I come hard, bearing down on him. He buries his cock in me and we grind together. I explode in absolute bliss, body spasming, back arched, fingers digging into his back. He keeps going, stroking again, deeper. I come, turning into a puddle of pleasure, mindless, drool dribbling from my lips. “Fuck,” I gasp. “Oh my god.”
He roars, going harder, and finally spills himself between my legs. He comes hard, growling, shuddering, and we collapse in a heap together, sweating and spent. I hold him tight, feeling his breath on my skin. Feeling him still between my legs.
“I fucking love that piercing,” I whisper, still twitching with aftershocks.
“I had a feeling you would.”
“Stay here, okay? Let’s just stay right here for a while.” I don’t want to let go of this moment.
“As long as you want me,” he murmurs. “I’ll stay.”
I bite his shoulder gently, holding him tight, feeling more spent and satisfied than I’ve ever felt in my life.
Chapter 30
Gareth
I dream of Fiona that night. When I wake, I’m still in her bed. We smell like sex. I kiss her neck, cup her naked breasts. She wiggles her hips against me until I’m hard again. She’s sleepy and beautiful as I kiss her. We fuck like that, half awake. I make sure to grind against her with my piercing, driving her wild. It gives me satisfaction, making her come like this, more joy than I ever thought possible. When she gets off twice, she pushes me back, panting and sweating, and she finishes me with her mouth. Slow and sensual, eyes locked on mine. Swallows every drop.
While she showers, I make breakfast. Pancakes and coffee. She accepts a plate when she comes out, drying her hair. “That was unexpected,” she says.
“What, the morning sex?”
“No, the pancakes.” She stares at the plate. “I genuinely didn’t think you knew how to work the stove.”
I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t always rich, remember? I lived on pancakes for years. They gave me a scholarship at Blackwoods, but not a stipend. Most days it was either trek to the cafeteria, which was nice but on the other side of campus, or stay in with pancakes. I opted for pancakes a lot.” We eat together in the kitchen, standing up. She looks gorgeous in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top that shows off her hard, pink nipples.
I remember biting those nipples. Biting them hard enough to bruise. I step forward, hands grazing her stomach. She sucks in a surprised breath as I lift up her top.
“Hey, what are you—”
I hold her down and look at her tits. Beautiful fucking tits. With little bite marks above them. “Just making sure you’re properly mine.” I kiss the tiny spots, licking them gently.
She turns, covering herself. Face pink with excitement. “Prick. Ask next time instead of manhandling me.”
I pat her ass hard before dressing for work. I’m whistling on the way to the office, feeling good for the first time in a while.
Yes, I fucked up. Yes, I gave in to my base desires. I’ve been so goddamn horny, so insanely pent-up. Yes, I shouldn’t have done it.
If I could go back in time, I’d do it all again.
What we did last night, that’s going to have consequences. I don’t know how yet, but I can’t imagine sleeping together is going to make anything easier. We have the move coming, we have a million decisions to make, and she needs a clear head. Not one filled with dreams of fucking.
I’m the same way. But now I have the Fiona-bug. I’m sick with her, infected with her. I can’t get her mouth wrapped around the tip of my cock out of my fucking skull.
My phone rings as I sit behind my deck. It’s early, barely past seven, and Carmine’s name is on my screen.
“Morning, bro,” I say, leaning back. “You have a wet dream about me last night?”
“Like always. You sound chipper.” He does not. His voice is throaty and annoyed. “You get laid last night or something?”