Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Son of a bitch. I’m sorry, there is going to be a lot of cursing here tonight. Now. Oh fuck, tug them a little. Rub them fucking rough. Yeah . . . oh . . . yeah. Now do it again while you’ve got that mouth gift-wrapped around my cock. Yes.”
Natalie’s confidence climbed higher. Wow, he was really, really enjoying everything she was doing. She didn’t have to wonder if her tongue was in the right place or if she was stroking him too hard in her fist, because August was sending a clear message and it read Holy shit, I’ve never been touched so right. Never felt anything this good.
That fear of rejection or criticism she normally dreaded was quite simply . . . gone.
The absence of that burden made her more eager to give him pleasure, lips traveling past the point she thought possible, not worrying whether or not too much saliva was visible or if it was weird to be moaning while giving someone oral. As if the pleasure was hers.
Wasn’t it, though? With him?
Whoa.
Easy, girl.
“Call me babe,” she whispered, gently tracing her teeth from root to tip and whirling her tongue around his swollen head. “But only if you want to finish.”
“Babe, baby, princess, love of my life, I’ll do and say anything you want. Just don’t stop. Don’t stop for me. I’m so close.”
Okay, he did not mean the whole love of my life part, obviously. He was just lost in the moment. So why did it make her nearly swallow him whole, her pulse tapping wildly in her temples? Her lips stretched around his ample length and when the tip of him brushed the back of her throat, his knees jerked up, the hand that had been cupping her cheek sinking in her hair now, ruining her updo in a split second.
“Fuck,” he ground out through his teeth. “Natalie. Fuck!”
Her fist moved up and down in rapid strokes, sensing the beginning of his peak. Was she still moaning?
Get a grip on yourself. He didn’t taste that good.
Liar. His taste was singularly incredible.
The scent of that grapefruit soap clung to his pubic hair and wires must be getting crossed in her brain, because smelling the fruit while taking him in her mouth made him almost taste like it, and somehow she knew she’d never pass up grapefruit again at the supermarket.
“If you don’t want to swallow,” he panted, throat muscles strained, “now would be a good time to stop, but please don’t stop. Please. Babe. But if you have to, please let me roll you over and come on your tits. I’m asking as an upstanding citizen and service member.”
There was simply no way she could stop now.
Not when he made her smile during a blow job.
That had to deserve some kind of award—and she was in the position to give him one.
Continuing to rapidly fist him up and down, her mouth followed her hand a little lower each time and she heard his breathing stutter, the groan building in his chest. He alternated between squeezing his eyes shut and watching her mouth bring him deep, skate back to the tip, then go deep again. And finally, the veins on his abdomen turned blunt and . . . he . . . roared. Her name.
His spend hit the back of her throat so fast and in such abundance, she had to struggle through swallowing it quickly enough, her hand still busy. Still working his slick shaft. His grip was twisted in her hair, but she could feel him resisting the urge to push her mouth down and hold her in place. And considering the animal state he was in, she found that oddly touching. Was she losing her actual mind?
August deflated, his arms falling to his sides.
His sex remained at half-mast, sticky and smooth. Somehow still appealing.
“I can’t believe what you just did for me,” he said between heavy breaths, reaching down to haul her up against his chest. “Natalie, the way you . . .” He shook his head, plowed his left hand through his hair, looking totally and utterly dazed. “Damn, woman.”
She preened, testing a palm on his chest, her head on his shoulder.
Just temporarily. Until they caught their breath.
“Look, I’ve got about three point eight seconds before I’m unconscious, thanks to you. So I’m going to use it to tell you to stay. Sleep right here. On me.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead hard, his lips remaining there for a few seconds. “It’s the safest place you’ll ever be.”
She ignored the flutter trapped in her throat. “Maybe it’s tradition.”
“Tradition,” he agreed.
They passed out cold less than ten seconds later.
Chapter Sixteen
August rolled out of bed with a smile on his face.
It took every ounce of strength in his body to ignore the impulse to whistle while pulling on his drawers. Damn. Now that was how two people kicked off a marriage. An oral sex competition where there were no losers.