Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I had a hand in the design,” he says. “There were things I wanted to be sure made it into the final product, but I didn’t obsess about every little detail. Stuff can be changed.”
“True.”
“So what do you think? Do you like it?”
“It’s not bad.” I try not to smile and fail miserably. “I just saw you living in a cave somewhere with bats and lots of fire.”
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in for a kiss. I melt into him, giving him free rein to kiss me as hard, soft, and as long as he wants.
“I love having you here,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.
“I love being here. I thought it might feel weird.”
He pulls away. “Why?”
“You know, with the bats and all …”
He smacks my ass, making me yelp. The contact sends a zing of pleasure shooting through me, snaking through my body until it lands deep in my core.
Something shifts between us. His eyes darken as he licks his lips, and my insides clench at the thought of having him again.
“Do you have plans?” I ask him.
“We were going to film, but …”
I grab the waistband of his joggers, letting my fingers drift across his hips. I look him in the eyes and grin. “You better not film this.”
His eyes flare as he waits with anticipation of my next move. I want him inside me so badly. But first, I want to taste him.
I push his pants over his hips so they bunch at his feet. He fists his cock, already so hard for me, and smiles.
“Now what are you going to do?” he asks.
I drop to my knees, catching a glimpse of Waffles in the doorway and noting we’re going to have to do something about privacy. I grip Ripley’s cock with one hand, sliding my fingers up and down his shaft. He groans, widening his stance.
I kiss the head of his cock as I stroke his balls with my free hand. He hisses a breath, threading his fingers through my hair, and flexes toward my mouth.
“This would make one hell of a video,” he says, shivering as I drag my flattened tongue from root to the tip.
“Maybe one day.”
He chuckles. “Really? You’re going to let me film us fucking?”
My tongue swirls over the tip, collecting the precum gathered there for me. “You never know.” I flick my tongue across the underside of his cock. “It might be hot.”
I keep my gaze pinned to his as I lick up to the head again. I suck the tip into my mouth, earning a hissing sound in return.
“Does that feel good?” I ask.
“You know it fucking does.”
I know it does. Watching him react to me, to the things I’m doing to him, makes me feel like a goddess. He’s warring with himself, struggling not to fall apart—struggling not to take control. And that leaves me feeling powerful.
“I love watching you while I suck your cock,” I say before taking him into my mouth. He rocks his hips, encouraging me to take him deeper, and his fingers tug on my hair until the follicles burn.
It’s a cacophony of sensations—enough to bring me to the edge of an orgasm without being touched.
The saltiness of his precum. The heat of his body. The smooth rigidity of his cock in my hand.
The look of pure desire in his eyes when he looks down at me.
“I’m never videoing this,” he says, guiding himself deeper down my throat. “This is just for me. No one gets to see you like this but me.”
I roll him around my mouth, letting my spit trickle down his length. Every sound coming from him causes me to get wetter. The thought of him splitting me open again makes me moan.
I take him deeper, pumping my fist—letting him guide me with his hands. He lifts his hips into my mouth, urging me to go faster, harder, until I feel his balls tighten.
My eyes water as he stops, and he refuses to let me move. His eyes squeeze shut as he pulls out of my mouth carefully.
“Dammit,” he says, heaving a breath. “You almost made me come.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “That was the point. Thanks for stealing that from me.”
“Oh, no. You’re going to get it. I promise.”
“Can I have it now? Or is that too much to ask?”
He laughs, pulling me to my feet. “I’m glad to see you didn’t lose your moxie.”
“Me? Never.”
He kicks off his pants, takes my hand, and pulls me into his bedroom. Then he sits on the edge of the bed, leaving me standing in front of him.
“Can I ask a favor of you?” he asks.
I shrug. “Maybe. I can’t guarantee anything.”
He shakes his head, amused.
“Will this favor expedite you fucking me?” I ask.