Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I take my time sliding the condom down his thick cock and each time his fingers bite into my hips, all while thrusting into my hand, I feel pride. When I’m done, I stare at how tight the latex is on his shaft. I’m actually surprised it holds him. I must stare for a little too long. Eb slaps the side of my ass to get my attention.
“Ow,” I whisper, still grinning, because it didn’t hurt.
“On your knees and guide me inside of you, Joy.”
“You’re so bossy,” I chastise.
“You haven’t seen nothing yet, honey. Take me inside of you,” he urges again.
I hold his cock, brushing his shaft against my clit. I whimper at how good that small movement feels. Then, I position him at my entrance. I slowly lower down on him, hissing at the way he stretches me with every inch I take.
“So fucking good,” Eb growls, and then he takes over, grabbing my hips and pulling me down on him quickly. When he’s all the way inside, I have to catch my breath. Eb has his eyes closed and he slowly opens them and the look on his face feels almost like a physical touch.
“Eb…” I whisper his name, so full of emotion, I’m not sure what I want to say.
“Ride me, Joy. Take us both to heaven,” he orders, his voice dark, vibrating and so commanding I do it without question.
Then again, I need him so much I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to have more.
I have a feeling when it comes to Eb, I will always want more.
Chapter 14
Joy
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I laugh when Eb comes into the kitchen scratching the back of his head. His hair is all ruffled from sleep and he’s wearing nothing but jeans. Eb has an amazing body, his chest covered in a light layer of chest hair, his skin golden in color and abs that men would envy and women would beg to touch—or lick.
“Who gave you permission to get out of bed?” He grumbles with a yawn, his big hand moving against his chest, scratching through the hair.
Definitely sexy.
“I wanted to fix you breakfast, before I had to leave,” I tell him, giggling as he wraps his arms around me and snuggles into my back. He kisses my neck, biting it tenderly enough that tiny chills of excitement run through me.
“Who said you can leave?” he grumbles, his hot breath exciting me further.
“I have to get to work sweetheart.”
“Take the day off.”
His hand moves up to palm my breasts, squeezing them gently. My knees weaken as I try to concentrate on stirring the scrambled eggs so they don’t burn.
“It’s one of the busiest days at the bakery,” I try and explain, my voice soft and full of need. “I have to work. I should have already left, but I wanted to make sure you ate breakfast before you got lost in your work.”
“How do you know I get lost in my work?” Eb asks me, surprise lacing his voice. He stops massaging my breasts, but he keeps his hand on them—possessively.
“Because you left the bed at three this morning to go work on your computer.”
“You were awake? I thought I wore you out enough with round three that you were dead to the world.”
“I was awake, but I figured you wanted to work, so I just went back to sleep. Now quit teasing me, so I can get your breakfast on the table before I leave.”
I’m almost sad when he does as I ask, and leaves me to sit at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. I put his food on a plate and slide it in front of him. He stares at it a moment and I start to panic. Did I mess something up?
I hate cooking, it’s true. Cooking is nothing like baking for me. Baking for some reason I find pretty and it feeds my creativity. The same will never be said about cooking—at least not for me. Still, I’m not horrible at it. I didn’t fix anything extremely difficult. It’s just bacon, eggs and toast. So his silence makes me feel unsure.
“Where’s yours?”
“I don’t really eat breakfast,” I shrug uncomfortably.
“So, you just fixed breakfast for me?”
“I thought it would give you energy so you could work and do what you needed to do today on such little sleep.”
“You’re saying you were worried about me.”
“I guess. Eb, it’s just breakfast. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings.”
“I’m just trying to wrap my mind around you, Joy.”
“Your mind? I don’t think I understand what you’re saying,” I respond quietly. It was just one night of sex—really amazing, great sex—but still, it was just sex. Did I step over some invisible barrier that Eb has? I’m not really experienced in relationships based just on sex.