Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I don’t see it coming, but I guess I kind of should. My climax bowls me over out of nowhere, coming at me like a mad monkey chasing an errant banana. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking about bananas right now or thinking about them, but of course, when I close my eyes, there’s an array of colored bananas there—dancing ones in every color you could imagine, including stripes and dots and houndstooth and chartreuse.
“I’m sorry,” I pant, wrecked and probably looking like a hot mess after the climax tears through me. “I didn’t mean to let that happen.”
Darius just grins at me, a soft, boyish grin that makes my heart and lady bits trip all over themselves. “Don’t be sorry. That was amazing.”
I rock my hips gently, testing out all the newfound sensitivity and how it feels to be so full that I have to grind my teeth against immediately coming again, and he groans. This time, I watch him. I watch as his eyes close, and his jaw clicks. I watch as he fights for control. It’s beautiful on him, and I want to see him lose it.
“It’s okay.” I smooth my fingers over the scars on his shoulder and do the same on his other shoulder with the perfect skin. “You can move now.”
He doesn’t open his eyes, but a vein near his temple throbs, and a muscle in his jaw spasms again. I can feel him throbbing inside me. I’m so wet, drenching us both after my climax, that it’s now so much easier to have him all the way inside me. I think that happened while I was seeing strange bananas and vibrant lights.
“I might last for all of a hot minute,” he groans. “Christ, you’re tight. You’re so tight and so wet. Even with the condom on, I can feel all of you. I could feel you when you came, clenching around me and squeezing my dick so tight that I nearly lost it.”
“Oh my god,” I moan.
“Sorry. Yeah, okay. How much do you want me to move?”
“Enough to get at least one rug burn,” I tell him.
“Okay. Can you brace yourself? And please tell me if it’s too much.”
“I will,” I assure him.
“Okay.”
His hips flex once, and I yelp. “Wait!”
“Gah!” His eyes fly open, and his hands leave my hips, going over his head as he flexes his fingers in a signal of surrender. “I’m stopping right now. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it wasn’t that. You feel amazing, honestly. So, so good. You’re not hurting me at all.” He relaxes beneath me, but I can still feel how hard he is inside me. The dichotomy of that threatens to blow my brain apart. “I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to change positions or something. Or if this is okay.”
“This is more than okay if you’re okay.”
I kiss him, taking my time. “It’s okay,” I whisper against his lips. He tangles his hand in my hair and brings my face down to his, hard, crashing our mouths together so he can really claim mine. I love being kissed like this and love the way it kind of hurts, and it’s messy and skilled all at the same time, and so, so perfect. It kind of feels a little like he’s claiming me, but it feels a heck of a lot like he’s asking to be claimed, too, and I’ve never had that with anyone before.
All the intimacy we had came before this, but this is a new level—a physical level that’s beyond even just that. This man knows my secrets, and he knows the hardest parts of my life. I’ve seen him ashamed, gripped by panic, crying, and also his eyes glittering with joy. I’ve seen his generous heart laid bare for me and even for my family, heard him laugh, seen him trying to open a damn jelly jar, and watched pleasure roll through him as he gave it all to me. We shared all that before we shared this, and it’s like we were naked long before we were actually naked, but being really naked is crazy wonderful, too.
Still kissing me furiously, Darius guides my hips gently. He uses one hand on the front while the other is splayed across my back, and I feel so perfectly steadied like that. So perfectly one with him and so perfectly his. He matches the rolling motion, thrusting with me, never giving too much, and not being pushy. He’s polite, a gentleman, and thinking that makes me want to laugh, like snort-laugh, but thankfully, all it translates to is a whimper against his lips. He eats the whimper as I feed it to him, making it his own.
I lean forward a little more and grind my clit against him. I can feel him moving inside me, not just pulsing but thrusting and hitting spots I definitely haven’t discovered on my own. I haven’t been particularly adventurous when it comes to this. In combination with the roll of my own hips and every movement grinding against my clit and sending a thousand white-hot sensations through me, I’m nearly finished.