Dear Future Ex-wife Read online Jillian Quinn

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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“Nate,” I cry out when he peels back the fabric and his tongue slips between my folds.

He licks up and down, in and out, his tongue bringing me so close to convulsing. Nate knows how to hit every spot at once, playing with my ass as he sucks on my clit. He buries his face between my legs, kissing my pussy like he’s making love to me. When he pinches my clit and shoves his tongue between my folds, I practically strangle him with my thighs.

His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he lifts me up, devouring every inch of me, desperate to lick all of my juices from my pussy. I lose my footing, and luckily, Nate is alert enough that he lowers me to the mattress with his hands cupping my ass. I lean back on my elbows, my legs spread wider. Now that he has more room to work, Nate slides three fingers into me, pounding my pussy with them while he licks and sucks until my head spins.

My hips buck, and he takes more of me into his mouth, adding another finger in the process. He stretches me open, and it feels like he’s fucking me with his thick cock, moving in and out until my pussy clenches, milking his fingers and mouth as I ride out my orgasm.

Nate lifts his head, his mouth glistening with my juices. He looks disheveled and sexy, like a possessed man who’s ready to claim me. With a greedy, seductive look in his eyes, he strips off his tuxedo jacket and throws it onto the floor. His shirt is next, and before he can take off his pants, I scoot to the edge of the bed. I flip open the button and unzip his pants, and seconds later, his cock springs into my hand.

“C’mere,” he says, threading his fingers through my hair. “If I can’t fuck your tight pussy, then I want your mouth.”

The tip of his cock looks swollen and oozes a little bit of precum. I stick my tongue out to capture his saltiness on my tongue, and Nate grunts my name. Stroking his shaft, I slide his cock into my mouth, taking as much of him as I can at once. The pictures Willow showed me online didn’t even do Nate justice. I never told him about the outline of his monster cock in some of the pictures people posted of him online. In fact, it completely skipped my mind until I saw it for the first time. And then, I was too busy thinking about how I will fit all of him into my mouth to tell him.

He tilts his head back and hisses as I suck and stroke him. “Fuck, wifey,” he groans. “Your mouth feels so damn good.”

With my other hand, I cup his balls, giving them a nice massage that earns me more grunts and satisfied groans.

“Damn, woman, keep doing that,” he chokes out.

Nate reaches between us and grabs my breast over my bra. The lace rubs against my swollen nipple, creating some friction that sends a shock straight to my pussy. Pinching my nipple between his fingers, he tugs and scrapes it with his nails. It hurts but feels so damn good that I can already feel another orgasm brewing inside me. How does he do this? Nate is the only man who has ever made me come by playing with my nipples.

“I love your tits,” he mutters. “I want to come on them so fucking bad.”

I nod in answer, still sucking him off and stroking his cock. So I don’t ruin my new bra, I reach behind me to unclip it, and Nate slides it off the rest of the way.

“I’m so close, Queen. Fuck, baby. I’m almost there.”

Less than a minute later, Nate removes his cock from my mouth, and in one swift motion, he has me on my back. Leaning over me, he strokes his shaft and comes all over my chest.

A wicked grin tugs at his mouth. “My God, baby. For a good girl, you sure know how to suck a cock.”

“Maybe I just like sucking yours,” I say with a wink.

Nate takes one hard look at me and then he rushes into the bathroom to grab a wet towel. I lean back on my elbows as he cleans up my chest, and after he’s finished, we crawl into bed together. He gives me space to get comfortable on my side, with my back facing him, and then he slides his arm over my stomach.

“’Night, Mrs. King,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my arms.

I cover his hand with mine and hold it over my stomach. “’Night, husband.”

Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, my eyes slam shut and sleep takes over, and I dream of the only man I have ever loved.


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