Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I’m about to kneel, but he seizes my waist, his hand rising up my ribs. “Wait.” His jaw tenses, and he kisses me again, slowly, and against my mouth, he whispers, “Come on me first.”
Did I hear him correctly? One of the most straight-laced men I’ve ever met wants me to come on him?
Our eyes hit, and he sees the shock in mine. For one, I never thought he’d be this experienced. Despite saying that he has a lot of sex, that he loves sex—to me, he’s still five years younger. Five years less experienced.
For another, I thought he’d be wound-tight and vanilla. But he likes to be bit. Possibly scratched and choked. Now this.
Maximoff Hale has his kinks, and they make him really vulnerable for a few seconds. Yet, he commands every action, too. I dizzy in thought, and I run my tongue over my stinging bottom lip.
He rubs my cock fast, fuck. I lean forward, forearm on the brick by his head. I hold his face in a tight grip. “You want me to come on you?” I ask huskily.
His head tries to arch back against the brick. He growls out a groan, “Goddamn.” His breath is ragged and spiked, and I’m only grasping his face.
His large hand squeezes around me—and I grit down, my muscles ablaze, my tendons pulling taut. My head thumps, blood rushing downward. I breathe hard through my nose. His hand changes speed, slower and tighter. The perfect pressure wells up inside of me, mind-numbing.
My head wants to loll back, but I remain eased forward, my forehead nearly against his forehead. He changes his pace and clutch again.
Fuck.
I’m going to—I jerk forward, coming by his fucking hand. His abs glisten, and with a breath knotted in my throat, I drop down to my knees.
I stroke his hard length a couple times with a skilled grip. He watches my fingers intently, and he pushes my damp hair out of my face.
I smile before I slide my tongue down him and cup his balls. He shudders and curses, “Fuck, Farrow.” That fuck said, stop teasing. I try not to laugh.
I suck his tip and then wrap my mouth around him completely. I go all the way, in and out, back and forth, his cock between my lips. Gripping his shaft at times.
I love having him in my mouth, but even more than that, I’m hooked by the way he’s staring deeply at me. Like I’m a fantasy. Like I’m something made of heaven and stars that he’s dreamt of—and I never thought to ask what a celebrity who could have anyone in the fucking world fantasizes about.
And I wonder how long it’s been me.
I feel myself hardening again. I clutch his ass and take him to the very back of my throat. I taste him on my tongue. He mumbles a curse, his eyes rolling back and then set into a glare at the ceiling. It’s the hottest cum-face I’ve ever seen.
I pull back and swallow.
When I rise, we start kissing feverishly, our arms hooked around each other, and I hold his muscular back against my chest and suck the base of his neck. He moans as I bite his flesh, and then he spins. We keep wrestling for the advantage, more compatible than most would believe—like two men playing for the lead. Not fighting.
I smile wide as he guides my hand to the brick, his chest up against my back now. We’re caked with sweat. His hands roam down my waist and ass, tracing the inked lines of my scattered tattoos.
I crane my neck over my shoulder and hold the back of his head. We kiss twice before he says, “Don’t move.”
Maximoff leaves to his nightstand. I lean on the brick with my forearms, almost in a relaxed lunge, watching him grab a box of condoms and lube.
“He bought my favorite,” I tease.
Maximoff wears his irritated, pleasured smile like a champ. I could stare at that face all day, every day. I basically already do.
“This is your favorite?” he says, sarcasm present, breath still heavy. “I would’ve returned it, had I known.”
I whistle. “Be careful. You’re seconds away from losing your honesty merit badge.”
He can’t hide his smile, but as he comes up behind me, our gazes devour each other again. The air strains, and I don’t even need to work him up. He’s hard as a rock again.
Damn. He collects a condom, tosses the box aside, and tears the wrapper off with his teeth. I watch him sheath his cock, then lube himself and his fingers.
His confidence wounds a hot ball in my throat—I want him inside of me. Now.
I face forward, my head hanging slightly, and I relax my muscles. He clutches my waist, and then he slides one finger along me until he pushes inside.