Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
If she only knew how often I thought about her pussy.
We’ve shared some wild nights together—nights I’ll never forget—but tonight I need to take it easy so she can heal. But taking it easy doesn’t mean I’m not going to make her come until she can’t think straight.
Ember is my drug, and I’m about to overdose.
“Zeb, my god.” She’s wide eyed as I zero in on her clit, doing all the moves I’ve learned she loves, keeping up the rapid pace that drives her wild. I flick over that little nub until her hips arch up off the bed, pressing her beautiful pussy into my face, where I lick and suck and inhale all her sweetness.
She cries out over and over as I keep her coming. She throbs, drenching me with her release, and I lap up every bit.
This woman is everything.
There’s so much noise in my head all day. Things I don’t want to talk about, and don’t even fully understand. Ember makes me feel so much, and I don’t know what to do with all of it, except channel it back into her.
I want to lose myself in her, because that’s what feels right.
I roll on a condom, slide her down the mattress, and crawl on top of her, careful not to put weight on the wrong spot.
The heat of her envelops me even before the head of my cock presses inside. I pause to savor the moment, but she’s not having it.
“Fuck me, Zeb. Please fuck me.”
Her words are like a full moon to a werewolf. I grab her hip to hold her steady and drive into her in one long thrust.
Peace blankets my mind. Everything is simplified down to me and this woman and the way our bodies connect.
I pull back and pump in again, harder, deeper. More and more.
Ember groans, her head tipping back, her hands grasping at my back like she’s drowning.
“Oh god, Zeb. So good. So good.”
Over and over, I bring us together. I take her over the top and keep her elevated there, like the goddess she is. My body worships hers until everything inside me empties out. I give her everything I have, until I’m wrung dry and made new again.
Reluctantly, I pull out of her, lie down beside her, and bring her into my arms. Her heart is pounding, and her skin is damp with sweat.
I brush back hair from her forehead, press my lips there, and stay that way until long after we both recover.
When she stirs, I give her a kiss, then follow her into the bathroom, where we both wash up. I take care of her tattoo, then carry her back to the bed.
I settle onto my back, and she tucks herself against my side. I feel the ghost of her there on the nights I sleep alone, but tonight, I only feel the warmth.
EMBER
Every night I spend with the men is bittersweet now.
It’s becoming more and more apparent that this all needs to stop, but how, and when?
If I were having sex with them as a group, it might be easier to draw a line under it. I could have one spectacular night with them, a grand finale of sorts. But spending nights with them individually makes it impossible, because who should be last?
Or maybe that’s just the excuse I’m using to keep it all going.
Because I can’t stand the thought of waking up without a big, strong, warm body in bed with me.
Zeb burrows under the covers as I come awake. His fingers tenderly probe the area around my new tattoos. I can’t see him, but it feels like he’s giving it an inspection.
Apparently satisfied, his hands find something else to do. Then his tongue gets involved, and I’m on an expressway from dreamland to ecstasyville.
My last thought before my mind goes off to another dimension entirely is that it’s no wonder I can’t bear to end things.
Even though I’m still feeling pretty damn blissful when I go into the kitchen for coffee, I seem to be the only one.
Frank looks tired, and Griffin’s body language, stiff with his shoulders back, instantly puts me on edge. He’s glaring at Zeb, and the silence that fills the room makes me think I just missed another round of head butting.
As Frank fills my mug, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out to find a message from Abby: “I’m 100% done with my boyfriend, and I have a good lead on a new place. Are you in?”
I must linger too long on the screen, or make a face, because Frank asks me if anything’s wrong.
It’s time. I have all three men in one room. At work, it’ll be hard to find a moment to talk to them all at once without anyone else around.
“Nothing’s wrong … but could we all talk a minute before we go?”