Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
And even if I lose her one day—
I'll always love her.
She'll always be here, with me, in my head and my heart.
But, hey, this is no time to think. There's plenty of time to think later. And, really, getting lost in thought is her thing—
Even if there are a billion considerations—
But right now, I'm not worried where she'll apply to grad school (I'm sure she'll have plenty of choices on where to attend—she's smart as hell) or what that means for us—
Because I know I want to be with her.
And that's bigger than anything.
And this—
This is the perfect way to show her.
I slip my hand between her legs and rub her over her panties.
Her head falls back, rests in the crook of my neck. She groans as I toy with her.
I draw slow circles over her, pressing the soft cotton against her tender skin. Again and again, driving her out of her mind.
So close to what she needs—
But not quite.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Until she's panting and clawing at my thighs.
Then, in one smooth motion, I push her panties aside and bring my fingers to her clit.
She comes quickly, groaning my name, tugging at my jeans.
"More?" I whisper in her ear.
"Fuck me." There's no pretense in her voice. No tease. No patience. Only pure, raw, need.
She shifts off me, pushes her panties to her ankles, does away with her yellow sundress.
Her bra.
She turns away from the camera, so she's facing me, so she's staring right into my eyes.
Those gorgeous dark eyes on fire with need.
She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
And the sexiest.
I bring my hands to her hips and pull her into my lap.
She pulls my shirt over my head.
Then it's the button of my jeans.
The zipper.
She brings her lips to mine as she wraps her hand around me.
My eyes close. My tongue slips into her mouth.
She pumps me with steady strokes, then she brings her hands to my shoulders and shifts onto me.
A quick, perfect tease.
Then I sink into her one inch at a time.
She feels so fucking good. She always does.
I pull back to catch my breath. I look up at her, soak in the sight of the woman I love in my lap, the two of us tangled in every possible way.
Then I close my eyes, I kiss her, and I guide her over me.
We move together in perfect rhythm, her body taking mine, her lips locked with mine, until she's close.
Then I shift, to give her exactly what she needs to come.
My thumb against her clit, my lips around her nipple.
The pressure, the speed.
There.
She rakes her nails against my skin, claiming me here, claiming me everywhere.
When she's finished, she takes a second to catch her breath, then she drives onto me again and again.
She pulls me right over the edge.
I groan against her chest, holding tight to her hips, rocking through the perfect feeling of pulsing inside her.
We collapse together, sweaty and spent.
Slowly, I untangle our bodies, right our clothes, carry her to the bed, help her clean.
We lie there, easy and tired and comfortable.
Exactly where we're supposed to be.
When she catches her breath, she rolls onto her side and brings her hand to my chest. "Hey."
"Hey yourself."
"You want to do another one?" She traces the hearts and thorns tattoo on my chest. The one I got for her. Because she'll always be here, always be a part of me.
"Already?"
"When you're ready." Her eyes flit to my crotch. "Oh. You are ready."
Is it that obvious? "I can be."
"You are." She brings her hand to the waistband of my jeans.
"I am."
She looks to the computer screen, sees our reflection. A very specific reflection—from my chest to my knees, her hand at my pants. "Well." She undoes the button. "As long as we're in frame…"