Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
It was more than a moan, more than a vocal expression of pleasure.
It was a cry of perfection, of finally feeling home again.
A cry for time lost, and a sigh of relief as the Earth finally tilted back on its axis.
I rode him hard, greedy as if I needed to reclaim him even though he’d admitted that he’d always been mine. I hadn’t always been his though, and while I regretted nothing because of the child I’d gained, I needed him to understand that there would never be a moment when I wasn’t his again.
“Easy,” he rumbled, his fingertips biting into my hips. “I’m not going to last long if you keep that up.”
I didn’t slow; if anything I sped up, rolling my hips in a relentless rhythm that ensured I wouldn’t be lasting long either.
“Dammit, Gwen,” he groaned as he released my hips and folded his arms around me, using me as leverage to drive into me from the bottom. “Come on, baby, give me one more. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
The pressure built inside of me again, and I fought the urge to close my eyes and lose myself in the sensations. I wanted to see him fall off the edge.
Dear God, he was a beautiful sight.
Muscles straining beneath dense tattoos as his mouth hung open, his every upward thrust deeper than the last, his eyes locked onto mine, a raw intensity in his gaze that sent chills over my body.
I could feel his resolve weakening, the tension building in his body, mirroring my own. The sound of our ragged breaths filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire.
I raked my nails down his biceps, feeling the ripple of his muscles under my touch. “Don’t stop,” I begged.
His response was a deep, guttural groan that sent a surge of fire coursing through me.
With a final, powerful thrust, he teetered on the edge, his eyes closing momentarily before they snapped open, wild and blazing.
We shattered, the past dissolving, leaving us reeling and together in the present.
Spent, my body sagged as I braced myself with my forearms on either side of him.
“Jesus,” he rasped, peppering kisses across my collarbone.
I smiled, lazy and sated. “I couldn’t agree more.”
His chest heaved with labored breaths. “You know we’re gonna have to use a bed one of these days.”
“Maybe. But we have plenty of time to get there.”
A profound reverence painted his face as he drew in a deep breath. “I hope so.”
Using both my hands, I framed his. “I’m here, True. No hope necessary. What happens from here with us is completely up to you.”
He nodded and rested his forehead on mine. “I won’t fuck this up again. I swear, whatever it takes to keep you, I’ll do it.”
I kissed him, chaste but filled with emotion. “I love you, True. But the things you need to do have to be done for you and not just to keep me.”
He nodded, a grin curling the side of his mouth. “I know, but a little incentive never hurt anyone.”
I laughed as I eased off of him. The loss was staggering, but my body, while tender, had never felt better. Grabbing my nighty off the floor, I pulled it on as I walked to the downstairs bathroom to clean up. When I got back, he had pulled on his jeans, but remained shirtless, casually stretched out on the couch, like a Greek God.
“C’mere,” he said, patting the space in front of him. It was already late, and I had a busy day at the restaurant ahead of me, but cuddling with Truett was not an offer I would ever deny.
He flipped to his back, and I squeezed in beside him, resting my head on his pec. Contentment washed over me as I nestled into his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek grounding me with a sense of safety and belonging, as if this was where I was always meant to be.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “How you feeling?”
While I was blissed out of my damn mind, my lips got loose. “Good. Well, better than good, actually. I forgot how nice it is not to vomit after sex.”
His body turned to stone and I regretted my choice of words immediately. “What do you mean vomit after sex?”
Tracing the black tattoos on his chest, I tried to brush it off. “Nothing. So, are you planning to come to the restaurant with me?”
Using two fingers under my chin, he tipped my head back, forcing my gaze to his. “Yeah, I’m coming to the restaurant. I called into work earlier and took a few days off so we can get you caught up. But first, you’re gonna tell me who the hell made you vomit after sex.”