Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Understatement, I thought as he laid me on the bed and dove directly between my legs. I stared at him as he grinned, licking me from my ass, to my clit, and back down again.
“Oh!” I gasped. This was new. He always throughly made love to me but I had a split second of wondering if he might actually take a bite. And then he did. A toothy nibble of my inner thigh.
“Lucky,” I gasped and he smiled even wider.
“I wish I had more time. I’d like to keep you on the edge for hours…”
I gripped his hair and moaned.
“Thank goodness we do not have more time,” I hissed, proud of myself for being somewhat coherent under the circumstances. “Hurry,” I urged him as he gave in and pulled his jeans down. “She could be giving birth as we speak.”
He ignored me, one hand playing with my folds as he gripped his shaft and guided it to my entrance. I moaned as he slipped himself inside me. He let out a sound of pure male satisfaction as he slowly sunk down until he was fully embedded. We kissed deeply, both of us loving the closeness we felt in that first moment of our bodies joining together.
It was a moment of pure peace, bliss, and pleasure.
“Fuck, Angel,” he growled as all hell broke loose. He gripped my thigh, holding me open as he ground himself inside me. He rode me slow and deep for a while, but he wasn’t gentle. He was rough. He took what he wanted and gave me everything he had at the same time.
It was always like that with us. It was always intense. We went hell for leather.
We went for the gold medal, every single time.
The bed was rocking so much that I hit his shoulder, worried that we would wake the kids. Or keep our teenager up. She was definitely old enough to figure out what that noise was.
“Sorry. Got carried away,” he grunted, gripping my hips as he flipped over, so that I could ride him. And ride him, I did.
I never felt so powerful and feminine as when I was riding my man. I reached my arms up and around knowing he was watching me, knowing I looked my best, loving every second until my fingertips found him again, scraping my fingernails over his chest until he shivered.
Our eyes locked as I ground my hips into his, working him as thoroughly as he had worked me. He didn’t last long. My man got impatient and flipped me over, laying me sideways this time so the headboard wouldn’t hit the wall, driving into me again and again until we came together in a shuddering climax.
We lay wrapped in each others arms. I was so relaxed that my muscles felt like liquid. Sex with Lucky was even better than a full body massage.
Hell, sex with Lucky was a full body massage.
I was smiling as he stroked my arm and kissed the top of my head.
“I guess we need to get up. Do you want to shower?”
“Yes, but quickly. Do not distract me,” I warned as I padded barefoot into the enormous master bathroom he had built especially for me. He had built the whole house with his bare hands, and a lot of help from the rest of the guys. So many of them worked in construction, and with the club’s connections to suppliers, it was incredible how quickly they could put a house together. I hoped someday they would make it an official business.
Then they would truly be unstoppable.
We turned the water on hot, jumped in, and mostly got out quickly. My man was so easily distracted by my body, it was almost laughable. Almost, but the truth was, he was tempting me with his busy hands as they soaped me up. I forced myself to discourage him. If we hadn’t had someplace so important to be, I would have happily spent the rest of the night in bed with him, skipping supper, loving on him and letting him love on me.
I almost ran to get out of the shower, he was tempting me so badly. He called out ‘no fair, woman’ as I practically jumped into my undies and jeans, still damp, throwing on a tank top with a shelf bra built into it, and tossing a cardigan over that. I was fully dressed and quickly applying a little bit of makeup by the time my husband was finished drying himself off.
“You are a cruel, hard hearted woman,” he said ruefully as he put his clothes back on. “You wouldn’t throw a life raft to a drowning man.”
“Oh, stop that,” I said with a laugh. “I’m going to make a goodie bag in case we get hungry. Want anything special?”
“Anything you touch is like mana from heaven, Angel.”