Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
She whimpers.
“Shepherd!” Her fingers grab my shoulders, almost painfully hard.
“Sweetheart, if you want something, take it.”
She grabs my wrist and removes my hand. Then she unbuttons my pants and frees my cock, rubbing it against her entrance. We don’t bother to work off my pants.
She’s so fucking wet for me, and I’m transfixed.
“I want you,” she says fiercely. “That’s it. No games. Just you.”
And just like that, she slides on top of me, engulfing my cock.
The sugar rush of slick heat down my shaft short-circuits my brain.
Her feet are braced on either side of me as her hips plunge down, swing up, and come down so quickly, greedy for more.
One hand presses against the window as she finds her balance. There isn’t enough space for me to do half the things to her I want to, but we'll make it work.
Even so, it’s some of the best sex ever in our hyperactive love life.
No, not just sex—this is soul.
My body welded to hers, our lips fused together, rocking gently as she gasps and moans and clenches.
I groan my delight into her mouth.
She nips my bottom lip.
I bite back harder.
We wrestle for control just like we always do, racing to the finish, a contest I won’t let her win, but God help her, she tries.
That’s one of the things I love about her most.
And there are so many little things on a list the size of the Mississippi.
Even through her moaning, her pleasure, the insistent motion of her hips, her eyes wet as she meets mine.
I know then that this means as much to her as it does to me.
When she picks up speed, her counter-thrusts turning frantic and messy, she lets out a tiny mewling sound.
Close.
So fucking close.
I have to clench every muscle in my body to hold back as her pussy grips my cock.
“I know, sweetheart,” I whisper, holding her close, shrugging off my shirt so we’re skin to skin. “Let fucking go. Come for me, Dess.”
With both hands, I squeeze her ass, guiding her movements, dragging her over the finish line.
There, there.
Fuck, there.
She tightens around me again right before the white-hot ecstasy consumes her.
“Fuck!” I bury her lips under mine again as she goes off like a cherry bomb.
I swallow every breathless moan spilling out of her as her pussy tries to rob my soul, giving back punishing thrusts that drive her higher, higher.
There’s no sweeter sight than driving this woman stark raving mad with pleasure.
“I love you,” she pants when she can finally speak again.
That’s all it takes for both of us.
She clenches again, the sound she makes ripped straight from her heart, and then I fall the fuck apart.
My balls rip lighting up my spine, and soon I’m one long human current, pure magma that only exists to fill her.
Every part of me, hers.
Body and soul and mind.
She has my all, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We come together just as she goes off again, so intense I forget how to breathe.
At first, I was amazed at how the energy between us never diminishes no matter how many times we do this. I thought it was a law of human nature.
Now, I know it’s going to be like this for the rest of our lives.
She said it herself.
But it’s about time I did something about it, I think, coming down from my high with my cock still rooted deep inside her.
And not just because I don’t want any shit from Cole if I beat around the metaphorical bush for too long. He’s not the type who’ll take kindly to any man stringing his daughter along.
I told myself marriage wasn’t something I’d ever do again. Not after my last one ended in a catastrophic heart-fuck.
Yet as Dess brushes her messy blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles down at me like paradise, how the hell can I ever do anything else?
“I think loving you might be a health hazard,” she whispers.
I’m still inside her, but she doesn’t seem to want to move.
Fair. I don’t know how we’ll clean up the mess we’ve made either, but right now I don’t care.
I pull her in with a hand on the back of her neck, kissing her deeply, drinking my fill.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“Because. I just came so hard I left the known universe.”
I chuckle. “That’s the kind of warning label I don’t mind wearing, woman.”
“Only for me,” she warns.
I snort loudly.
Like I’d ever waste a second on another woman.
“No jealousy. I'm yours,” I promise, holding her close—because let’s face it, there’s going to be a round two in the not-too-distant future—and I think about all the ways I can show her I mean it.
I’m a man who lays claim.
I never imagined giving myself up could be so satisfying, too.
Still, as we trade hot kisses and roaming hands through the lazy evening, I think I'm ready.