Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I want to prolong it, but I need to be inside her . . . now. I stand, hauling her to the edge of the bed and throwing her legs into the air. She catches herself, choosing to support her own legs instead of resting them on my shoulders, while I line up with her entrance and slam into her. I grip her hips, pulling her onto me over and over again, still feeling the flutters of her inner walls.
She’s slick, hot, and squeezing me like a vise. She’s fucking heaven.
I thrust into her, the slapping sounds of our bodies the harmony to our grunts and moans. But she’s too far away. I need to touch more of her . . . all of her. Testing, I lean forward, seeing when her flexibility gives way. To my delight, she folds nearly in half, her knees almost to her shoulders, and I find her hands, interweaving our fingers. Holding our conjoined hands to the bed, I stare deeply into Janey’s eyes.
“Come for me.” It’s about as much dirty talk as I’ve ever done. Hell, it’s more words than I used in a whole day before Janey. But she’s making it easier to say what I feel. And right now, I want to feel her sweet pussy quivering all around me while staring deep into her eyes, knowing I’m the one she wants.
That she wants me.
That she’s mine.
I’ve never felt less worthy, but fuck, am I glad that Janey sees something in me that others don’t, because I’m too selfish to give her up now. I want her. All of her, every day, forever.
“Cole!” she shouts. Her eyes roll and her lashes flutter, but she fights to keep them open, letting me see all of her as she comes. Her nose crinkles, her brow furrows, her mouth falls open. It’s glorious, and I’ve never felt more fortunate to witness something. I could see one of the wonders of the world, and it would pale in comparison to the sight of Janey orgasming on my cock.
It’s too much for me to take, and I again spill into her. My cock jerks with every pulse, but what’s really exploding is my heart. I don’t have words for it, don’t have words for much of anything, but there’s something in my chest that feels strange.
I yank out of her, knowing my cum will leak out too and wanting to use it. I swipe my hand through the mess at her opening and smear it over her sensitive clit, marking her with our combined cream.
“Oh! I can’t!” she squeals as she squirms to get away.
I pin her thighs back with one arm, keeping her bent in half and her pussy exposed for me. “You deserve it. You deserve everything,” I vow as I speed up, my movements swiping over her whole pussy as my hand becomes a blur.
Her cries get higher pitched, to the point where she’s almost screaming, but she’s not fighting me anymore. She’s on the cusp of something big, and we can both feel it. My cock is leaking after my orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the juices pouring forth from Janey. Her whole body goes tight, her mouth opens in a silent scream, her eyes slam shut, and her fingers turn into claws against the bedding.
I guide her through it, letting her drift away this time, knowing she’ll come back . . . to me. Because I think I know what this feeling is. I’ve just never felt it before.
CHAPTER 23
JANEY
“You seem different,” Mason tells me at work the next week.
He’s right. I am different. And that’s thanks to Cole.
And myself.
I can admit now that I was angry and hurt by Cole’s dismissal after our week at the cabin. But I can also see that he was right to let me have time alone to heal and find my balance again. Because he’s definitely thrown me for a whirlwind of a loop-di-doo.
I never knew a relationship of any sort could be this . . . all-encompassing. No, that’s not it. Cole hasn’t taken over my life. I still go to work, enjoy my patients and friends, and have read ten more chapters of Dragul and Tiffany—which isn’t as much as usual and I still have forty-eight to go.
But the intensity with him is unlike anything I’ve known. It feels like he’s aware of me on a primal, cellular level. He knows when I get to a good part in my book by my breathing and wants me to share the excitement. He listens to not only what I say about my day but hears how I feel about it and responds to that, and when he looks at me with those blue eyes of his, I feel as though he sees my soul and likes every bit of it, even the dark parts I’ve worked so hard to pretend don’t exist.