Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
I have banged more women than there are days in a year. I fucked them in twos and threes. Sometimes five or six at a time. Before I met Frankie, I had a penthouse in Anchorage just to host sex parties. Women-only invites, and they came by the dozens.
I have more stamina than a horse, even at my age. My sex drive is legendary. No one can satisfy it.
Except her.
I don’t know what kind of succubus-level magic she’s wielding, but with her, the sensations are different. The chemistry, the orgasms, the connection—everything with her hits differently. Her sexual magnetism is so fucking intense it terrifies me and makes me insanely hard.
The first time I sank into her body, I knew.
I didn’t need a bed full of women to get off.
I only need one woman.
Her.
My life before Frankie had no flavor, no meaning, no purpose. It was sex without feeling. A book with blank pages.
I cannot go back to that.
I won’t.
Leo and Kody aren’t going anywhere. They’re addicts like me. But I have something they don’t.
Money. A lot of it.
She needs me.
Feeling calmer, I return to the window, set my phone on the ledge, and slip on the goggles.
A shroud of stillness cloaks the guest house. Two unmoving male bodies sprawl on the bed, passed out.
Where is she?
Moments later, she emerges from the bathroom, exquisitely naked, carrying tubes of something.
She kneels on the mattress, squirts ointment from a tube, and smooths it on Kody’s injured knee. He doesn’t stir.
When they were released from the hospital this morning, I compiled a list of everything they might need. My employees have been running around all day, gathering every item on that list.
Providing for Frankie brings me great pleasure. Providing for Leo and Kody is an extension of that, despite my desire to kill them. They’re my family, and as much as it sickens me, she loves them.
She moves to the edge of the bed and extends a slender leg. I lean closer to the window as she rubs the contents of another tube into her skin.
Lotion.
I used to watch her do this every night, greedily tracking the paths of her hands as she moisturized every dip and curve of her body. Like now.
When she spreads the cream across her perky little tits, my insides tighten. My cock hardens, and all my blood rushes south.
I came here directly from my shower, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Shoving my hand inside them, I fist my eternal ache.
How many times have I masturbated to visions of her? Nine months of self-pleasure has done nothing to take the edge off. But seeing her in the flesh? I might actually enjoy this release.
I spit in my hand and curl it around my length, stroking from root to tip.
As she glides lotion down her arms, her face looks so peaceful, so content, not caught in the lines of the anger that plague her when she sees me. Like this, her beauty is stunning, mesmerizing. She leaves me breathless.
After all the weight she lost, she’s too thin but still painfully, unjustly, indescribably gorgeous. The natural radiance that shines from her is still there, surrounding her like an aura.
My fist tightens, jerking harder on my straining cock.
I need those lush cherry lips wrapped around me. Fucking hell, she knows how to suck a dick. Never shied away from taking me deep. When I hit the back of her throat, I nearly blacked out. Every. Fucking. Time.
Hers is the only mouth I’ll ever fuck again.
Finished with the lotion, she stands and walks to the open doors, looking out into the night.
I step back into the shadows, heart thundering, fucking my fist, groaning with desperation and despair.
Look at me, wife. Give me those gorgeous eyes. See me. Come to me.
She searches the darkness, gaze roaming, each sweep never quite snagging on the small attic window.
Is she looking for me? Hoping to catch a glimpse of me staring back? Why else would she be standing in the open doorway, fully nude and on display?
Deep down, I know you still want me, Frankie. You still love me. You’re just too angry to see it.
The thought sends me into a tailspin of frenzied hunger. I kick my hips, thrusting and stroking, my love for her twisted into this dark, obsessive need.
I come with a strangled gasp, squirting all over my hand and abs, dripping the last drops into the shadows slithering at my feet.
“Fuck!” I heave, squeezing my dick, drawing out the release, chasing the high.
But it doesn’t last.
It doesn’t compare.
Nothing rivals the real thing with the only one I want.
I need her. I need to feel her mouth on mine, her eyes staring into my soul. I just…need her.
She lifts her heavy mane of hair off her neck and rolls her head from shoulder to shoulder, stretching those delicate tendons, letting the breeze caress every angle.