Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I leaned forward, angling for a taste, but he stopped me before I could sip his pre-cum.
“Uh uh, Wildflower, I need to be in you asap because I can’t hold on much longer,” he growled. He swiveled me around so that my back was to him, and I braced my hands against the kitchen counter.
“Spread,” he commanded again, and obediently I parted my legs. I knew my cunt was hot and steamy still, red and engorged with a trail of female juice running down my thigh. He traced the rivulet with his finger before breaking the strand of pearls with his fist, the beads clattering to the floor. Without any further warning, he pushed me down and thrust into me with his mighty pole, fucking me hard and deep with one stroke.
“Ohhh!” I cried, throwing my head back, loving the feel of being impaled on his massive member. The waves overtook me as he started up a pounding rhythm, driving deep into me again and again, my breath coming in gasps as he fucked me hard.
“Ohhh!” I shrieked as the pressure built. My cunt was gushing warm juices again, this time coating his cock in liquid glaze as his balls hit my clit. He paused an instant and pushed me down even further, whispering in my ear. “I want to hit your g-spot, Wildflower.”
Sure enough, his glans brushed that sensitive spot when he took up the rhythm again, and the pressure in my kitty grew to unbearable proportions. With a cry of release, I came for a second time, my twat convulsing on his pole, grasping it in its wet depths and pulling him deeper. The friction caused him to release as well, and he spurted into me with a mighty roar. Our bodies shook against each other, each jet of semen sucked into my uterus by my hungry kitty, desperate for his sperm.
“Oh no!” I panicked as I arched my back, trying to make eye contact with him. “We forgot to use protection again!” It seemed so trite, since he was totally embedded in my wet depths.
He growled low in his throat, breathing in my ear. “Wildflower, I WANT you to have my baby, protection is the last thing on my mind,” he said, stirring his groin and making me sigh. I couldn’t believe how many times we’d forgotten to use protection in the last two weeks. It was totally irresponsible and my nineteen year-old self was not ready for a baby.
But at the same time, would being the mother of Liam’s son or daughter be so bad? The way he was so loving, so tender with me, a family with him could be sweet and satisfying. I wasn’t sure, but promised myself to use a condom the next time around … which judging by his hardening cock could be in about five minutes.
8
Liam
Back in the present day …
She was a mass of contradictions, this mother of my child. Desperately poor, yet impertinent, looking at me with a combination of lust and fear. Oh yes, lust. Even after two years of no contact, I could tell that my Wildflower still wanted me.
Oh shit. MY Wildflower? I shook it off. Old habits die hard.
She was back in my life whether or not she wanted to be because my child was a part of me and I wasn’t going to let Georgie go so soon after discovering him. A man has a duty to raise his son, and I was going to fight for custody tooth and nail.
“So where’s your boyfriend?” I asked nastily. I couldn’t help it. The thought of someone else covering that luscious body inflamed me, even though I hadn’t touched her in two years.
She looked down, her long lashes shielding her blue eyes. “I … I don’t have one,” she said quietly.
“Oh really?” I demanded. “Then how are you able to afford all this?” I asked, gesturing to the gated private park we stood in.
“It’s my friend Helen’s apartment,” she replied softly, looking down at her hands. “Helen gave me the key while she’s on vacation.”
“So where are you living?” I demanded, one arm carrying Georgie as I hustled her out of the park. “Let’s go. We’re getting Georgie’s things and you’re moving in with me.”
She gasped, the color draining from her face. Maybe it was a reminder of how I’d pressured Wildflower into moving in with me just a week after we met. I’d been desperate for her, for her scent, for her body, and had steamrolled the beautiful teen, overcoming her protestations.
This time wasn’t going to be any different. I hauled Wildflower and the baby into my Range Rover and we took off in the direction she indicated. After driving for a while, I could hardly contain my distaste. We were in a rough part of town, completely dominated by public housing projects. My son was growing up here? She must have seen the contempt on my face because she began defending herself.