Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
His breath, the near panting sound of it, is the only indication that he’s starting to lose a little of his own control. By the time he’s close enough for me to capture his mouth with mine, I’m already teetering on the edge of orgasm.
His mouth hangs open, his pleasure sparkling in his eyes when he shifts his hips and the tip of his cock presses into me.
“Open,” he whispers, urging me to spread my legs wide.
He drops his head, his gaze directed at our connection. It’s erotic and somehow one of the sexiest things that he does.
“You take me so well, baby. Look at that pussy swallowing me up.”
A wave of chills inch their way over my skin. The man’s filthy talk could easily bring me to orgasm on its own.
I’d tell him as much, but I’m incapable of words. The utter perfection of the way we fit together without a millimeter of space between us always rocks me to my core.
“Need all of you,” I manage to say when he pulls back before pushing all the way in.
He pulls his eyes from our connection to meet mine. “You have every single part of me, Mila. Always. I’m yours.”
“I love you,” I whisper, my hand cupping his cheek as tears spring to my face.
I don’t know how long I’ll get with this man, but I know I’m going to cherish every single second until the universe realizes it gave me more than my fair share.
“Love you so much,” he says, his hips canting forward.
He gives me all that I ask for and more, the rock of his body into mine nearly silent with how slow he takes me.
We whisper promises, make plans, and vow ourselves to each other until the sun sets behind the clubhouse.
“It’s time,” he finally says, my body drained but waiting for him for that last push toward release. “Come for me, baby.”
My back arches, a final wave of pleasure building until I hit the crescendo. He follows me, the pulse of my body matching the rhythmic beat of his.
Chapter 37
Stormy
“If you’re not careful, your face is going to stick like that,” Mila says, patting my face like a grandmother would.
“You know why I’m in a mood.”
“And I’ve been telling you for months that you’re crazy.”
“There’s nothing crazy about wanting to marry you, Mila. I’m starting to think you don’t love me at all.”
She snaps her head in my direction. “Vincent Chilton!”
Guilt swims inside of me. It was a low blow, and I told myself that I’d have patience with her. I know she thinks this won’t last, but what she can’t get through her thick head is that what we have isn’t controlled by karma or the universe or whatever other nonsense she thinks. We control our destiny and ours is intertwined. I told her she was mine, and that wasn’t enough. I’ve asked her to marry me and she just chuckles and acts like I’m playing. My seriousness has somehow turned into a game. I usually smile and let her play it off, but it’s really starting to eat away at my confidence.
I shrug when she just continues to glare at me.
“Are you using me for my body?”
Her eyes drop to the front of my jeans, and I can’t help but begin to thicken with her attention there. Thinking for one second I was in control of this situation was a huge mistake. I’m like a puppy on a leash with her, and she figured that out very early on.
“Am I using you for that thick, scrumptious cock of yours that gets me off so often I’ve grown addicted to the way it feels inside of me?”
I swallow, wanting to close my eyes to gather some control but I just can’t stop looking at her when her attention is on me. I thicken further, my need about to pass the point of no return regardless of where we are and the meeting about to take place.
“It’s been months,” I tell her, well aware of just how whiney my voice sounds.
“And other than when we’re working, we spend every second together. I’m not going anywhere, Vincent.”
She’s the only one who still calls me by my given name. I sort of love it. It’s something I’ve had since birth, but since no one else uses it, it feels like something that is ours.
“What does that have to do with you continuing to refuse to marry me?”
Her smile goes wider.
“You say refuse like you actually spend the time asking. You demand it of me.”
“I thought you liked me in control.” I cock an eyebrow at her, shift my hips on the chair until I draw her attention back to the front of my jeans.
I know she’s just as insatiable as I am.
“I think we need to have this conversation another time,” she says.