Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But with all those things, I found it easier to navigate through said anxiety as we went back into the house.
“Arty here has an interesting idea,” Triss declared as soon as we moved inside.
“An idea for what?” I asked, finding Cato, Levee, Alaric, Triss, and Arty all at the table, looking like they were putting their heads together about something.
“The website, duh,” Triss said, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a piece of bacon off of Alaric’s plate. He’d removed the bread and meat from his serving, and seemed to just be eating egg whites.
“Ah, what was the idea?” I asked.
“A forum. You know, like where people can engage with each other about their interest in the club. And an anonymous submission area for women to tell firsthand accounts of being here.”
“And the stories,” Levee reminded her.
“Stories?” I prompted.
“Well, like a place for people to write their own, like, club stories. Well, let’s face it, club smut. Featuring all of our favorite men,” she said, waving around. “That way, the site can stay up. And everyone who already likes it will be getting more out of it, but you don’t have to update it personally anymore. Because, you know, weird.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding.
“Though, obviously, you need to keep updating as everyone gets taken or new members are added. Just the basic stuff. So long as Huck is okay with that, I guess.”
“I, for one, have no plans on settling down,” Levee announced. “My fans will have lots of material to fantasize about.”
From there, the conversation just kept going about the future of the site. Levee and Triss were enthusiastic. Cato and Alaric were quiet, but I would say it was fair to assume that they were intrigued by it as well.
Arty would occasionally pipe in, talking about how the site was going to need a different layout, better security, and a bunch of other technical stuff that went right over my head.
“Come on,” Donovan said a while later, taking my hand once again, and leading me up the staircase to his room.
“I know, I know,” I said as we moved inside his room and closed the door. “You told me so.”
“That’s not what I was going to say, but… yes,” he said, reaching for me.
“Hey!” I said, slapping his chest. “Drop the hand, or Ama is going to kill me if you break your wrist worse. The brace isn’t enough,” I reminded him.
“It’s fine,” he said, hands sinking into my hips, and pulling me against him. “So,” he said, exhaling.
“So,” I repeated.
“That’s all our secrets, right?” he asked.
“Well, no,” I said, shaking my head solemnly.
“What else is there?”
“Well… I may or may not have based the hero in my book about you,” I told him, watching as his eyes warmed at that information.
“Oh, yeah? So he’s incredibly good-looking, charming, well-dressed…”
“Yes, absolutely,” I told him.
“And it goes without saying that he’s a world-class fuck.”
“Of course,” I agreed, smile spreading. “But, you know, I think I am… running out of inspiration,” I said, enjoying the heat in his gaze at those words, at the implication behind them.
Our clothes weren’t ripped off this time. Our hands weren’t greedy. Our lips weren’t bruising.
Everything was soft and slow, from his hands grazing over my bare skin, to the sighs that escaped me as he spread me on the bed, kissing up my thigh, then between, driving me up slowly.
I swear I felt the anticipation in every muscle, on every inch of my skin, deep into my soul, as he continued to work me with his tongue.
My back arched off the mattress. My hands gripped his head.
Then his tongue swiped just right, sending the orgasm shooting through my system, making me cry out as my body shook, as my thighs crushed the sides of Donovan’s head.
“How was that for inspiration?” Donovan asked, kissing up the center of my body.
But I wasn’t capable of words right then.
“Seems like you maybe need a little more, huh?” he asked, smirking a bit as he moved back, kneeling off the side of the bed.
He pushed my knees to my chest and surged inside of me, making a moan escape me as desire rekindled in my core.
I expected hard and fast and needy.
But there was none of that.
At least not at first.
It was slow and sweet, his movements unhurried, but deep each time.
But sometime after my second orgasm, what was left of his control snapped, making him push my thighs together, and press them against the mattress to the side, creating a different sensation as he started to fuck me harder and faster, up and through an orgasm I couldn’t even prepare for before he found his own release.
We collapsed together afterward, spent.
And happy.
God, I was so happy.
I was starting to wonder if I’d ever really felt anything more than small traces of joy before in my life.