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)
“How good?” he says huskily, teasing me as he holds back.
I dig my heels into his ass, pulling him back into me.
We both moan and after my breath returns I say, “This good. Keep going.”
“Wasn’t planning on stopping, peach,” he says in a raspy voice, his accent thicker with pleasure.
He plants kisses along my jawline, his stubble razing my skin until his lips join with mine. Our mouths are moving together in a deep, searing kiss unlike the one yesterday, unlike any I have ever had. Our kiss, frantic, hungry, all-encompassing, leads into a rhythm that his body matches with mine as he thrusts his hips forward, his cock driving deeper and deeper inside me. Every nerve in my body is being pulled inward, swirling into a hard knot, live wires tangled, begging to be set free.
He pulls his mouth away, damp from our kiss. “You feel so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, staring into my eyes, fevered with desire, and I can hardly believe these words are coming from his lips, that those lips were just kissing me. I can’t believe he’s just fucking me, here, now, so strong and thick and hard and making my body and soul feel like I’m about to step over the edge of the universe.
I run my fingers down his forearms, feeling the sinewy muscles as he holds me in place, then I brush my hands back up to the hard planes of his shoulders. I dig my fingers in, needing more, wanting more. He growls unapologetically with wild lust, slamming in harder while one of his hands slips down to my clit.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
We’re both on the verge, on that precipitous edge, and one of us has to jump.
He strokes his finger along my clit, swirling once, twice, and then that’s all it takes.
I’m an earthquake and the world, my world, breaks in two, and fire and light and everything that is explodes from within me. I’m crying out, the whimpers escaping me, and as I hold on to him, as he starts coming inside me, I don’t care.
I’ve always wondered what Blake would sound like when he comes. It’s animalistic. It’s guttural and primal and he’s fucking, fucking, fucking me, the shelves rocking back and forth, his hips thrusting into me until I’m sure they’ll leave bruises, until there is nothing left of him.
He sucks in a breath and slows, his hips coming to a lazy stop.
“Well, that happened,” he says, his voice broken. He tries to get better footing and then slowly pulls himself out of me.
I don’t even know what’s going on. My world is still shattered, spinning on its axis, and all that’s left is a warm glow inside me that shines greater than the sun.
He slowly lowers me to the ground and I have to hang on to the bookshelves to stay upright, stacks of books falling out and tumbling to my feet.
“What’s going on up there?”
A shrill voice breaks the spell.
I have to blink my eyes a few times to figure out what’s happening. The sex has melted my damn brain.
“Bloody hell, it’s Treebeard!” Blake exclaims, trying to pull up his jeans.
“You still have a condom on!” I whisper.
“There’s no time!”
And there isn’t.
Because his pants aren’t quite up yet and his sheathed cock is hanging out when Treebeard comes around the corner. It doesn’t help that my skirt is still hiked around my waist in bunches.
“What are you two doing?” she exclaims, frozen at the end of the hall as she stares at us.
“Run,” Blake whispers to me as he finishes buttoning his jeans.
He grabs my hand and we run down the aisle as Treebeard starts coming after us.
Then we dart up the next aisle, leading her around. “You grab the computers, I’ll lead her astray. Meet you outside,” he says, and then he’s taking off in one direction and I’m going in another.
I hope to god she doesn’t come after me because we’ve been working in a corner, but luckily it doesn’t take me long to gather up our stuff and start running down the aisle and to the stairs.
I don’t know where Blake is at first, but then I see his dark head disappearing behind the history section and a few seconds later Treebeard (good lord can that woman run). With both messenger bags slung on me like a pack mule, I make a run for the doors, bursting outside into the night just before Blake does.
“Keep going!” he yells, and all my days of running are finally paying off because I plow over to Mr. Mean. But Blake is even more fit, like a superhero, and catches up in seconds.
He runs around and gets in, unlocking my door just as I see Treebeard emerge from the library, shaking her fist at us like something from a cartoon.