Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
The orgasm that had been building comes back with gusto and my head falls back to my shoulders as I tumble over the edge. My heart pounding and my breath coming in short pants, I lift my head and run my fingers through his hair, focusing on his gorgeous face as he stands and looms over me. His gaze stays locked on mine, and I watch a million questions and emotions flash through his eyes.
“What?” I ask quietly, cupping his jaw.
“I’ll tell you when the time’s right.” He takes my arms and lifts them to wrap around his shoulders then grabs me by the back of my knees, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him while he carries me to the couch, sitting down with me straddling his lap.
I lift my arms as he takes off my shirt, then my hips, and then I watch him pull himself free from his sweats. He slides his length back and forth through my folds as my nails dig into his shoulder. “Take me slow,” he orders as he holds himself steady, and I lower myself, biting my lip against the exquisite feel of him filling me. “Yes,” he hisses, grabbing my ass with one hand and the back of my neck with the other.
I rise and fall slowly, enjoying the connection, the look on his face, the feel of his skin against mine. He pulls me forward, and I open my mouth over his as he urges me to ride faster while he takes control of the kiss. I let him lead the way, knowing he’s never failed to take me somewhere beautiful.
He pulls his mouth from mine, and I rest my forehead against his as he grabs my ass with both hands and his hips start to rise and fall to meet mine, the two of us working in sync, in search of pleasure. When my inner walls begin to pulse, he groans then urges me to go faster, to ride him harder. I try, but my own orgasm makes my body give out, and then he flips me to my back and lifts my legs to his shoulders, fucking me hard. So hard there is a pinch of pain that only seems to intensify the pleasure that is coursing through my body.
His hips jerk then his strokes slow and he lowers my legs from where they are resting. He kisses me once more, this time gentle and sweet, like he’s reminding me that no matter how hard he takes me, he can still be soft and tender. When the kiss slows, he picks me up without breaking our connection and carries me into his room. He puts one knee then the other onto the bed then lowers me down, and I whimper at the loss of him.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, nose, and lips then leans back and tosses the sheet over me and goes into the bathroom. I hear the water turn on, and a few minutes later, he comes out with a washrag he uses to clean me up before kissing my stomach. When our eyes meet, he pulls the sheet back over me then takes the rag back into the bathroom.
When he comes back out, he’s dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. I sit up holding the sheet to my chest then lean back against the headboard and watch him approach me.
“Can you please go check your car for my bag?”
He puts a fist in the bed and looms over me as he answers with a quiet “No.”
“Braxton. I’m happy and relaxed. Don’t ruin that by being annoying.”
He smiles and ducks his head so his lips brush my ear as he speaks. “Your bag is sitting on the table near the front door. If you hadn’t been set on running, you would have noticed it earlier.”
“You knew where it was,” I accuse, leaning back to meet his gaze.
“I saw it when I locked the door so my parents wouldn’t walk in on me fucking you.”
Oh my God, I didn’t even think about them coming back in after they left. My cheeks get pink and he laughs.
“You’re evil.”
“Yet, you love me.” He smirks, and my heart pounds, because he might just be right.
I might just be in love with him.
Damn
Chapter 14
Dakota
“THEY LOOK HAPPY.”
At that comment from Braxton, I look a little more closely at the still wet photo of my parents I’m holding. My dad’s wearing a jean jacket with my mom on his back, looking over the top of his head and smiling. Both of them look young; the picture was probably taken when they first got together or not long after.
“They were.” I lick my lips as his arms wrap around me. “They loved each other. They were inseparable.” Tears make the back of my throat uncomfortably tight. “It’s hard to remember that they were happy, that we were all happy. It’s like all the painful parts of my childhood have overshadowed the good times we had before things changed.”