Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“She does. She lived there for a year or so in her twenties. When she met my grandpa. She calls it her ‘rumspringa’ from the ranch.” He chuckled.
I smiled too, only imagining the crazy things a twenty something Harriet might’ve got up to back then.
It was now he pushed off the doorjamb, walking over to me, slowly. Purposefully. I didn’t move as he settled in behind me, lifting my hair from the back of my neck and laying his lips there. My entire body shivered. My thighs clenched with the way the simple gesture turned me on. “Another thing,” he said, lips now at my ear. “You don’t leave the bed while I’m sleepin’. You wake me up so I can make sure we both start our day right.” His voice was pure sex.
I didn’t even care about the orders he was so used to speaking in. I didn’t care about the reasons why not.
“Well, there’s still time for us to do that,” I said, my voice thick.
Who the heck knew why I said that. Maybe it was the magic in the morning. Maybe it was the cabin. Or maybe it was because I was totally and utterly sexually frustrated and was sick of fighting this anymore.
Duke’s eyes flared. He was surprised, I knew. He’d expected a fight from me because that’s all that I’d given him thus far.
His surprise didn’t last for long, after all, he was a macho-man and macho-men were all about action.
My chair whirled around quickly, my robe was opened only seconds after that. Duke’s gaze turned midnight when it landed on my nipples poking through the delicate fabric.
He leaned forward and laid his mouth over the silk, sucking at my already hard nipples. I thrust my hand into his hair, pulling at it with the force the act was affecting me. I was somewhat of an expert on sex and orgasms. I’d had enough of both, but they were definitely not mutually exclusive. And the vast majority of intense orgasms I’d had in my life came from a really good vibrator. Sure, there were some men who had been taught about a woman’s body and weren’t selfish enough to ignore the idea that a woman deserves pleasure too, but those men were only slightly less rare than unicorns.
Having had experience with bad, mediocre, passable and great sex, I knew that the act of having a man suck on your nipples was not enough to make you come. Sure, if done right, it might get you excited, not for the feeling but for the fact a man who takes the time to worship your body in that way is usually going to pay better attention to things south of the nipple.
I’d never been fond of it, if I was honest. It was either sloppy, too rough, or too weak.
But like Goldilocks, I’d found a nipple sucking that was just right.
My thighs clenched, my stomach tightened, and I let out a small noise from between my pursed lips.
Duke returned this with a deep and feral growl from the back of his throat. One hand was on my neck, the other pushing up the fabric of my nightgown.
He didn’t stay at my nipple for long, which I was glad about. He was good with his mouth and I was greedy, horny, and really ready for an orgasm.
Duke didn’t waste any time with kissing his way down my stomach, didn’t even look up at me. He was too focused on his task. There was a desperation to him that turned me on even more. Popular culture liked to paint men as liking the act of going down on women, but in reality, they were lazy and happy to receive oral, certainly not give it.
Duke’s lips over the top of my panties told me he was a giver.
Big time.
My hands yanked at his hair, not even caring if I pulled it out from the roots. I wanted to hurt him for showing me this kind of pleasure—knowing it was only temporary—that I’d carry around the memory that this existed and not even my vibrator would be able to live up to it.
Such thoughts were violently silenced the second Duke pushed my panties aside and laid his lips right there.
Then he worked the fingers too.
The fact he was doing this without so much as kissing me first was that much more intense and erotic. He was devouring me with an intensity I’d only entertained in my fantasies—with the cynical knowledge such hunger to please couldn’t exist in men.
My climax came quick, intense, and never ending.
Duke didn’t relent during my cries, during the spots that danced in front of my vision. He was ruthless, and I almost pleaded at him to stop, unsure if my body could handle another orgasm.
As it was, it hit me before I could regain control over my motor functions.