Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
One of his hands is lost in my hair, tugging on it the way I like, and I let out a breathless gasp from the sweet pain. The other is lifting up the hem of my dress, shrugging it up around my waist. He slides the satin of my underwear aside and lets out a deep moan that I feel vibrate through me as he explores me with his fingers.
“So wet,” he murmurs. “You get so fucking wet for me.” He sticks three of his large, long fingers inside me and I clench around them, begging for more.
“Hurry up and fuck me,” I tell him.
No, seriously. Someone’s going to knock on the door at any minute.
He laughs, low and rich, reaching down to lift me up so my legs are wrapped around his waist. I reach down between us and frantically try to undo his belt. He stares at my frenzied hand for a moment, clearly enjoying just how much I want him.
“Hold on, peach,” he says, pulling down his pants and boxer briefs until his cock bobs freely, so dark and rigid. I love him like this, so raw, thick, and all for me.
He holds himself at my opening and waits for a few beats. I can feel the heat coming between us, the way his eyes burn into me, until his gaze drops to his cock as he’s about to push its stiff length inside me. Before I can urge him in, my fingers tightening their hold on his back, he pushes with one large, powerful thrust.
I can’t help the cry that escapes from my lips, and then the soft, “Oh,” as he slowly, agonizingly, pulls himself out, his cock absolutely drenched.
He eases himself back in, a few inches at a time, his lips brushing over mine.
“You’re really something, you know that?” he whispers against my mouth, his words breaking off into a groan. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
My heart catches high in my throat. I can’t speak, I can only feel, and the intense gaze of his eyes tells me that something is happening, something new. His eyes continue to burn as he pushes himself in and out, pumping steadily. He grabs my chin lightly and holds my face, making sure I can’t break eye contact, can’t look away. It’s nearly embarrassingly intimate, the way his stare feels like he’s stripping me bare.
Our moans are hushed, our breaths rough and ragged as he moves inside me, his hips circling so he hits each and every tightly wound nerve.
It’s so fucking good.
It’s everything.
We are joined, connected, and the more he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, the warmer he feels, like barely contained fire. A bead of sweat rolls off his nose, and finally his eyes pinch closed as he approaches his climax, his mouth going for the crook of my neck where he bites and sucks and grunts as he pounds me, each thrust getting faster than the last.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, inhaling sharply. “I’m coming.”
Before I even have a chance to try and catch up, he lets go of my waist and slides a finger over my clit, petting it twice, and that’s all it takes to set me off like dynamite.
I explode outwardly, until I feel like there is nothing left and he explodes into me. I can feel him inside, hot and potent as I throb mercilessly around him, my nails digging so hard into his shoulders as I ride him out that I know they’re going to leave marks tomorrow.
My heart is huge, filled with stars and bliss.
This man. This gorgeous specimen of a man, who fucks me with all he has.
I want this man forever.
“Blake,” I whisper, trailing off because I can’t catch my breath, because I know what I want to say but I don’t know how to say it.
He’s breathing heavily into my shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it, loving everything he is.
“That feels so good,” he murmurs.
“Better than the sex?”
“Nothing is better than that.” He lifts up his head and gazes at me with sated eyes. He gently brushes his thumbs over my cheeks. “I don’t know how to top that.”
He’s got that look I love in his eyes, the one only I bring to him. Sleepy, relaxed, happy. Absolutely satisfied. But there’s tenderness brimming underneath, something rare and beautiful, like a key that makes my heart want to burst free like a bird from a cage.
I smile shyly, suddenly feeling like it’s all so much, too much, and if he wants to he can just reach into my soul and walk around in it, examine every inch of who I am and then just walk away.
“We should get back,” I tell him.
He nods, brows knitting together for a moment. “Of course.” He gently lowers me to the ground and then takes a wad of toilet paper, running it up the inside of my legs where I can feel him drip down. It’s such an intimate gesture and yet quite crude at the same time. Pretty much like Blake himself.