Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“You’re killing me,” I whispered. “I’m not good at waiting.”
With a low chuckle, he finally moved a hand between my legs, stroking me softly. “Would you like me to outline the benefits of delayed gratification, wife?”
“No. I would like you to stop talking and—oh!” His fingers caressed my clit at the same time he leaned down and took one aching nipple in his mouth. I grabbed his head, threading my fingers into his damp hair, and lifted my hips. He slipped two fingers inside me, both of us moaning at the sensation. Withdrawing his hand, he rubbed me with warm, wet fingertips, using firm pressure and a steady rhythm. Every muscle in my lower body went tight.
“Oh God,” I whimpered. “I’m so close already.” In fact, I only lasted about ten more seconds before the tension he’d so carefully wrought snapped, and I cried out as my body throbbed with relief. As soon as my muscles loosened again, I sat up and tried reaching for his cock.
Sitting back on his heels, he grabbed my wrist. “No. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I have plans for you that require diligence and restraint. You touch me like that, I might get impatient.”
“I just want to feel you,” I whispered. “Let me.”
He kept my wrist shackled with his fingers but brought my hand to his cock. I wrapped my hand around his hot, hard flesh and he slowly worked my fist up and down, controlling the motion with his grip on my wrist. His breathing was heavy and labored. “You want that?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Here.” I took his other hand and brought it between my legs, using his fingers on me like he was using my fist on him. I dipped them inside me and then brought them to my mouth, rubbing my lips with his fingertips. “And here.” I sucked one finger into my mouth, and he groaned. His cock grew thicker in my palm.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Goddamn, that’s hot.”
“Come on, let me,” I coaxed, sensing I’d gained an advantage in this game. I dipped my head to see what he’d do. My tongue darted out and licked his crown. He went still, although he kept that hand wrapped around my wrist, and I kept my fingers curled around his shaft. “I want to taste you.”
A low sound rumbled from the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop me when I stroked him again with my tongue. Or when I took the tip between my lips and sucked gently. Or when I began to move my fist up and down his swollen length again. In fact, he moved his hands into my hair when I took him in deeper, letting my mouth follow my hand all the way down to the hilt and back up again. His fists tightened as I worked my mouth up and down his erection, sweeping my tongue over his hot, veined skin, gripping him hard at the root. His breaths came faster. His hips began to flex. On my tongue, I tasted the salty-sweet flavor of his desire. With my free hand, I reached between his legs and cradled his balls, rubbing my middle finger along the sensitive skin just beyond them.
Suddenly he tugged my head back, forcing me to look up at him.
“Wife.” A warning.
I let him spring from my lips with a soft pop. “What’s the matter?”
“The matter will be down your throat in a minute. So if you don’t want a mouthful of me, you best take a break.”
“Maybe a mouthful of you is exactly what I want,” I murmured, teasing his crown with my tongue again. “Maybe I’d like to feel it down my throat. Maybe it’s my turn to make you come for me.”
“I don’t generally like it when things don’t go according to my plans,” he said, his voice tight. “But I suppose I could make an exception this one time.”
“You’re so good to me.” Laughing, I kept my eyes on his while brushing the tip of his cock over my lips. “Husband.”
He groaned, and I resumed what I’d been doing. And in less than a minute, he was thrusting hard between my lips, filling my mouth with hot, salty bursts. He was so rough that my eyes watered and my scalp stung from how tightly he grasped my hair, but I felt a gigantic sense of accomplishment at his long, drawn-out moan, at the power of his climax. When it was finished, he withdrew from my mouth, and I swallowed before gasping for air.
“Fuck. Are you okay?” he asked, his hands releasing their hold in my hair.
“Fine.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist.
“Jesus Christ. That was incredible.” He touched my lips with his thumb. “I love your mouth. The night we met, I couldn’t stop staring at it. And this dimple in your chin.” He pressed it gently.