Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
His thumbs dig deep into my neck, pushing the oil around the surface of my skin, nudging the aches away. I groan loudly, unable to contain it, and I feel his boxer clad cock harden. It taps against my thigh and I smile into my arm. I love that I can still turn him on just by being me.
It makes me feel powerful and beautiful. It makes me feel sexy.
“So, was it as terrifying as you expected?” His voice is soft, lulling me as I drift on a wave of relaxation.
I hum a yes.
“Was he nice to you?”
“There was no time to be nice to each other. From the second the restaurant opened it was mayhem.” I mumble. “I just passed ingredients to everyone and familiarised myself with the kitchen.”
“Good.” His hands dig deep trails down to my hips and then circle around to my navel before coming back again. “We missed you.”
“Did Tommy use his potty yet?”
“Not yet.”
We both sigh. He’s proving extremely difficult to potty train. “He’ll get there when he’s ready,” Nathan adds and I really hope he’s right. “At least they went to bed easily enough.”
“That’s because you stuck to the routine.”
“Exactly.” He grins and circles his strong fingers around my arse cheeks. “You have the smoothest skin.”
“Stop tracing my tiger stripes,” I snap, as his fingers follow the stretchmarks on my hips.
“They’re beautiful.”
“I’m getting a spray tan to cover them first thing.”
His slick hand connects with my right arse cheek. I squeal and buck as the sting tingles across my skin. “You’ll do no such thing. Besides, that orange spray women insist on getting transfers onto their poor husbands.”
“I love how you just assume they’re all married.”
“I’m an old fashioned kind of guy. Now hush and let me rub you.”
“Rub away,” I insist and close my eyes. “I love you.”
“I know,” he mutters playfully and tickles gentle patterns on my ribs.
“Are you going to make me shower before bed?”
I hear the smile in his voice. “Naturally.”
Sighing heavily, I close my eyes again. “Well then, don’t stop rubbing until there’s not a single spasm of pain in my body.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You spoil me.”
“Are you hungry? I didn’t even think about that.”
“No, I got to taste more food than I can cope with during work.” I wet my lips at the memory. “It is so good. You just don’t find the quality ingredients they use in the local supermarket, you know?”
He shifts down my body and works on my legs. “I want to kiss every inch of you but you’re all oiled up.”
Grinning, I wriggle my butt at him. “Just keep rubbing then. If I’m still oily then you’re not done.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is it twisted that I love it when you call me that?”
“Yes.” His slippery, leather clad fingers slide around to my navel. A gasp escapes me when I’m hoisted up at the hips a few inches and another pillow is placed under my groin.
“Mind if we do this old style?” He asks, his voice playful and deep. Before I get the chance to respond, I feel him pushing against me, parting my folds with his thumbs. I release a moan of pure pleasure as he sinks into my depths. Every inch of him brings me a tingling ache that I doubt I will ever get used to. “So good.” His hands move back to my hips and rub deep patterns.
I feel torn between sleeping from the slow massage or bucking against him so as to get him to move faster. My body is a mess of contradictions.
“I have been waiting all night for this,” he admits. “All week, even.”
“Has it really been seven days?” I ask. We normally don’t go more than two but both of us have had so much to do this week. “You’ve stopped moving.”
“It’s been a week,” he tells me as way of explanation.
“And?”
“And…” His hips join my arse, burying his full length into me. He groans; I groan and I feel his length contract inside of me. “I’m so close to finishing.”
I shouldn’t laugh but this hasn’t happened before. “I feel that good, huh?”
“You do.” He misses the joke entirely, or maybe he didn’t and he’s joking too. “Now stop talking; you’re distracting me.”
“How can I distract you? You’re literally balls deep.”
His laughter vibrates through his body and directly into mine. I think I’m as close to coming as he is right now. What an odd pair we make. He begins thrusting slowly and his hand continues massaging. Then suddenly he sobers and snaps, “Also, stop calling me SpongeBob.”
“Well that was random.” I try to look at him over my shoulder but his hand pushes my head into the pillow. Ouch. “Smothering me here.”
“You like it.”
He’s not wrong. Fingers tangle in my hair and pull sharply until my head comes back. I push myself up with my hands.