Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 29(@250wpm)___ 24(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 29(@250wpm)___ 24(@300wpm)
“God damn it, Dory. You can’t say shit like that to me. How close are you? I need you to come first. Tell me what you need.”
“You. Just you, Edwin. Faster. Oh God, yes. I can feel you everywhere. Is it always like this?”
“I wouldn’t know that, but it will always be like this for us.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“What?” I ask, needing to know.
“You’re my first, my last, my everything,” he admits, and somehow, I just know he’s telling the truth.
“Me too,” I say, finally learning the rhythm of us.
“Dory, baby. Cum for me. On my cock. Your cock,” he grunts at me. Shit. Fuck. Damn.
I like that. I like being told what to do. My orgasm builds, and I mindlessly say things about love and forever, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what I am babbling about. He kisses me hard again, bringing my eyes back into focus.
“I need to fill this pussy, baby. Give you my fucking seed. Tell me you want that.” He is talking crazy, but since I want to be filled with as many babies as he will give me, I tell him exactly what he wants to hear.
“Fuck. Yes. Please. More. Ahh. I love you,” I scream as my orgasm overcomes me.
“I love you too.” He shouts as his cum shoots in hot ribbons inside me. Amazing. Did we just say we love each other? Surely, he doesn’t actually mean it. That has got to be a heat of the moment kind of thing.
When he pulls out of me, I wince. His cock is huge and still hard. As he flutters kisses all over my face, including my scars, he whispers over and over, “I love you.” I need a minute.
“Where are you going?” he asks as I get out of bed and head towards the bathroom.
“To the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
I notice my reflection in the mirror. My hair is crazy as fuck, my lips are swollen, and there are little bite marks on both sides of my neck. I don’t even remember him doing that.
To catch my breath, I automatically wash my hands. As I turn the light out and go back out into the room to the bed, I stare at his sleeping form. I smile down at him. He is handsome and all mine. I don’t think I will ever be able to leave him.
A little while later, I am reading in bed beside him. One minute, he’s sound asleep, and the next, he’s thrashing around in bed. He knocks my Kindle out of my hands. He’s then on top of me, but I don’t think he’s awake. He’s not hurting me, but it sounds like he’s in pain.
“No. No. Don’t do it, Hadi,” he screams, scaring the shit of me, but then again, he was a Navy SEAL and has been medically discharged.
“Shhh, Edwin. It’s me, Dorene,” I tell him. I don’t know if you’re supposed to wake someone when they are in this state or not, so I do the only thing I can think of. I start singing to him. I sing a Selena Gomez song I heard earlier on the way home from work.
It seems to work because he settles down, still on top of me, his head on my boobs. I keep singing and stroking his hair until he is calmly sleeping. I do this for about an hour until I am sure he’s good. Only then do I cry. This poor, strong man. What he must have been through.
Later, I wake up with him staring down at me. It’s dark out, but the lamp on my nightstand is still on.
“Hi,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“Don’t thank me,” I say, kissing him. He looks so… beaten right now. I hate that.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Don’t be, Edwin. You can’t control it.”
“I am ashamed. Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all. I am glad I was here for you.”
“It’s never stopped so easily,” he admits.
“Well, it’s a good thing you met me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
We spend the rest of the morning getting to each other, both literally and biblically. He tells me his war stories. I tell him what happened to me when I was a little girl, and we’re both still here.
True love works miracles.
Three Weeks Later
I have spent every single day with Edwin since I met him, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. Tonight, we are having dinner with my parents, Chet and Diane. Again. We’ve gone over there every other night since this whole started. We practically live together. We go home from work every day, and in the morning, we arrive together. We just haven’t had the boyfriend-girlfriend talk yet. I haven’t wanted to bring it up, still fearful that he will stop wanting me, even though he’s given no indication that will ever be the case.