Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
But when she wraps her small hands around my thickness and leans down to lick the precum off of my dick, there’s nothing girly about her. She’s desire incarnate. A temptress.
“Fuck,” I breathe out when she moans with my cock between her pouty lips.
With her eyes locked on mine, she moves her lips on the line of my shaft and peppers my length with wet kisses, applying little suctions.
“Put it in your pretty mouth or I’m going to die,” I groan.
This girl. This beautiful angel will be the death of me.
With a smirk, she licks her lips and takes my head inside her mouth.
“Good girl. Now, suck,” I direct her. And she does. I watch as she tries to take more of me inside her mouth. Her eyes water, but she pushes until I feel her throat tighten around the head. She gags on me, but instead of letting me out of her mouth, she sucks harder and that’s it.
With a feral need, I pull her onto my lap and push the straps of that fucking red dress off her shoulders, baring her delicious tits. I bite the smooth skin of her breasts and suck the rosy nipples into my lips. She shrieks and then moans. With her wanton moans and whimpers, I’m one second away from bursting. I place her where I want and thrust into her warmth in one deep push. She holds onto me for dear life as I fuck her senseless. Around her, I’m losing all my control and considering the moans she lets out, she doesn’t mind.
She’s my other half. The rest of my soul I’ve been missing.
As her body clasps around me, she quivers and comes. Watching her come is the most erotic image I’ve ever seen. I slow down, trying to stay inside her as long as I can. A smile appears on her face when she finally catches her breath and she looks at me with adoration.
“This is heaven,” she whispers, and I can’t deny that statement.
“This is heaven,” I agree with her.
We rock into each other, chasing the pleasure in slow yet deep thrusts. As my orgasm rips through my body with earth-shattering power, she joins me with her own silent cry of pleasure.
“You’re a good man, Davis,” she tells me, resting her face into the crook of my neck. “And I don’t care if it takes the rest of our lives for me to prove it to you, but you are.”
The rest of our lives. Looking up into her eyes, the future gets crystal clear.
chapter eleven
Marin
It’s crazy here today in the best way. Janie and Stevie are battling.
They’ve had an ongoing war since breakfast about whether Judge Judy would win a fight with Jerry Springer.
Stevie watches too much garbage TV but I gotta say, my money is on Jerry. He’s had to duck and cover from a lot of flying chairs from the little I’ve seen and I think he could dance and dodge around Judge Judy until he took his shot.
So, that battle rages on as I try to teach my caveman, mountain man how to make apple fritters and pork barbecue.
Janie is ah-mazing, don’t get me wrong, but she’s from Texas and they make the wrong kinda barbecue down there. I would never tell her that but it’s time this house did barbecue right.
“I don’t like vinegar.” Davis grumbles as I pour the distilled apple cider vinegar into a measuring cup then over the pork butt. “Doesn’t barbecue just mean put it on the barbecue?” He bobs his eyebrows with a frustrated frown.
“Shush. You need to expand your horizons. You can’t just throw a piece of meat over hot coals and hope for the best. Once this is marinated, then, oh then, we will slow cook it over just the right hickory wood for six hours… baste at the end with sauce and…” I pinch my fingers to my lips, then make a kissing sound.
“I can get behind that if there’s kissing involved.”
He brushes my hair behind my ear. Such a simple touch but it sends a cascade of longing and comfort deep into my soul. I give him a soft punch in the rock-hard muscle of his shoulder. “You made a right mess out of the apple fritters. And be careful, that pan of oil is still hot.” I point toward the pan then give a sad look at the over-fried dough sitting in a stack on a plate like lumps of coal.
“I want to make a mess out of you.” He leans down, trailing his tongue up my neck and heat blooms on my cheeks, my heart hammering away like it always does when he gives me that look.
“Shhh, they’re right there.”
He tosses a look over his shoulder into the living room, where Stevie is in the middle of his passionate closing argument on how Judge Judy would knock out Jerry Springer, paying us no mind at all.