Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I sit in front of her—so she’s kneeling between my legs—and cup the back of her head. “You’re sure?”
In answer, her eyes sparkle and she opens her mouth, leaning forward to lap at the head of my cock. I swear at the contact, fighting the urge to fuck up into her mouth.
“I haven’t done this before, either.” She reaches forward to wrap her fingers around my length. “Show me what to do. What you like.”
“If it’s too much or you want to stop, tap my thigh twice, okay?” I tell her, and the second she nods, I tug her head down, fitting half of my cock between her lips. Her tongue strokes the underside of my length, then swirls around the head. “I’m not going to last long, Dahlia,” I admit. “You feel too fucking good.”
She moans in response, the sound vibrating along my cock. I thrust my hips up, fucking her mouth in slow strokes. Pleasure tightens in me, shooting up my spine, as I watch her take every inch of me even when her eyes water with the strain.
She looks up at me through her eyelashes, and I curse. Dear god, it’s like this woman was made just for me. For all her talk of not knowing what to do, she’s licking and sucking me like I’m her favorite candy.
I’m fucked.
My grip tightens in her hair as pleasure hits me with the force of a damn tsunami. I groan her name as I spill down her throat, lost in the perfect feel of her lips wrapped around me.
Dahlia chokes a little as I pull away, lips wet with spit and my release.
“Was that okay?” she asks with a huge grin, licking her lips.
“You are fucking perfect,” I answer, yanking her up to kiss her to prove my point, uncaring that she tastes of me. “And I am never letting you go.”
10
DAHLIA
It’s amazing how much can change in the span of just two weeks.
Not just the house, though it’s finally beginning to look more like a home and less like an abandoned, haunted ruin, but me too. I had never expected or even dared to hope that I’d feel this happy or this secure a mere fortnight into my stay here.
I have Dylan to thank for that and, well, past me too I guess because if it wasn’t for my internet stalking, I wouldn’t have taken this risk at all.
God, am I happy I did.
Right now, I’m leaning against the kitchen wall, thoroughly enjoying the view of Dylan sealing up the last of the counters. His hair is tied back in a bun that would look ridiculous on anyone but him. Somehow, he makes literally everything look good, even the ragged work trousers he’s got on that look as though they’ve been patched up about a hundred times.
The wall between the kitchen and living space was knocked through in the first week, so now the downstairs feels much more open and inviting. Or, it will once the thick layer of dust and rubble from the work has been cleared and I’ve managed to decorate. I’m so excited to get to the stage of decorating. Making things look pretty is where I excel, and though I’ve learned a lot, it’s clear the manual labor aspect of renovations is not a talent I possess.
It’s fine because Dylan is excellent at it.
“It’s going to look so good,” I say excitedly as Dylan straightens up and surveys his work. “I can’t wait to show it off to everyone.”
He turns to look at me over his shoulder, a little furrow between his brows. There’s a streak of dirt along his cheek that makes him look even more like he belongs in the wilds living off the earth. He wipes at it with the back of his hand, but it only smudges it worse and he rolls his eyes as I laugh.
“Everyone?” he asks.
“Yeah, well, my family will want to see it,” I tell him. “And it’d be nice to invite them over once it’s done. Ooh, like a housewarming party!”
While the thought fills me with excitement, it clearly doesn’t have the same effect on Dylan. He looks affronted at the idea of a party, his eyes wide in what looks like alarm. It’s kind of cute, to be honest. This man could probably fight a bear and win, but the mention of socializing with people makes him look uncomfortable as hell.
“A party…” he repeats slowly, clearing his throat.
“Yes,” I say, trying to stifle my laugh.
“With people.”
I can’t hide my laughter this time, but I slap my hand over my mouth to try anyway. “Yes, grizzly bear, with people. Wouldn’t it be nice to show off all our hard work? And…for me to get to show you off too?”
Dylan’s jaw ticks, but he nods sharply. “You really want to? A housewarming party would make you happy?”