Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Max yawned loudly, really putting some emphasis into it. “Yeah, me too. He’s a good kid. He’ll be back in another twelve weeks or so. SEAL training will change him even more. He’ll be harder, and meaner. He probably won’t be the happy go lucky brother you’re used to anymore.”
A loud screech came from the baby’s room, and we were both up and running. Max passed me easily and was in Harleigh’s room even before I made it out of ours into the hallway. Alpha barked frantically at the door hurrying us up. By the time I made it into the room, Max had Harleigh in his arms. He was humming to her softly, which was a miracle drug to her and her frayed nerves.
Harleigh was still hooked up to an apnea alarm that alerted us when she stopped breathing. She’d done this a few times before, and each of those times it was because she’d kicked the monitor off with her other foot. We were lucky that that was all it was, others weren’t so lucky.
Reaching down, I put the monitor back onto her foot, and Max laid her back down into the bed. She was dead to the world as per her usual. The kid could sleep anywhere anytime. When the monitor went off was the exception. There was something about the pitch of the alarm and the cadence of Alpha’s bark that woke her each time.
Our beautiful baby is the epitome of the perfect child. From the time we got her home from the hospital until now, she’s slept ten hours a night. She doesn’t wake up to eat. Hell, even when she was puking up her entire meals due to the acid reflux, she was still happy. You wouldn’t even know it was time for her to eat unless you kept a timer, which we ended up needing to do.
Angelic is how she’s described by all who meet her. That is until you try to separate her from her daddy when she doesn’t want you to. Then she’s a holy terror that resembles The Bride of Chuckie. Max, of course, thinks this is the best thing since sliced bread. I’m secretly pleased, yet I’ll never admit it.
“God, that thing gets me every time.” Max said as he held his hand over his heart.
“You and me both.” I whispered.
I let my fingers linger on her hair, feeling the baby soft wisps of hair that graced her head. It took a couple months, but by the time she left the hospital, she sported one hell of a cowlick.
He held the covers up for me and I crawled halfway in. “When do you think they will let her get off that?” He asked.
He crawled in next to me and pulled me into his chest. I snuggled up close so my right leg was hitched over his thighs, just underneath his groin. I laid my hand down on his tummy and let it sit there, testing the waters so to say.
I drew my hand lower until it was skimming the line of his boxers. “I’ll ask at her next appointment.”
His stomach muscles clenched in appreciation.
His hand caught mine, and I thought he might not be as into it right now as I thought he was. Except for he shoved my hands underneath the elastic band of his boxers and covered his cock with my hand. Taking my new bound freedom, I stroked his lengthening cock with my fist. Working it slowly up and down at a steady pace.
In a matter of moments, his cock was hard as stone. Once he started to thrust into my fist, I stopped. Letting my hand travel lower. He spread his legs wider so I would have access to what I wanted. I gathered his balls into my hand and cupped them gently; then I gave an experimental tug to see what kind of mood he was in tonight. His growl said it all, and I lowered myself down underneath the covers until my mouth hovered just over his cock.
“So it’s a hard and fast kind of night, is it?” I asked seductively.
I skimmed his cock with my lips, but didn’t take him inside yet. I was waiting for confirmation, and I wouldn’t do a thing until he let me know how much he wanted it. This has turned into a game for us; the first one to break gets control. Well, in all reality, Max was always in control; he just let me have it until he was ready to bring it home.
He didn’t answer with his mouth; instead, he took his cock in hand and guided me by the hair down to it. I left my mouth closed, waiting. Realizing I wasn’t going to open without prompting, he ran the head of his cock along the seam of my lips. My tongue watered, wanting desperately to bring him inside the heat of my mouth. Still, I didn’t open.
Growling, he flipped us to where he was straddling my rib cage, and his cock hovered above my lips. He reached over and flicked the bedside lamp on for more light, and then immediately returned his cock to his fist.
Guiding it back to my mouth he said, “Open.”
I obeyed, and he lifted my head and fed his cock into my mouth. He shoved inside, hitting the back of my throat so fast that he initiated my gag reflex. He pulled back, but didn’t give me time to recover before he was touching the back of my throat again, albeit slower and less forceful this time.
He moved in and out of my mouth for six or seven thrusts before he pulled out abruptly, lifted my feet so the soles of my feet were planted on his chest, and thrust forward into me with little preamble.
He was so deep when he went in this way. He left my feet on his chest in case he went too deep, but I never had to stop him. This position allowed just a bite of pain to consume me, and it wasn’t long before I was panting with excitement. Each deep thrust brought me closer and closer to the pinnacle.