Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Then we’d watched the end of one of his football games before turning on one of my movies to fall asleep to.
It was perfect.
Made even more perfect when I was woken up to his lips and hands on me.
The party below was still raging, the beat of the music thumping through the floor, the occasional sound of laughter echoing up into the room.
But we were oblivious to it as I slid my body over Detroit’s, and felt his hands moving down my back to sink into my ass, squeezing and massaging in a way I never could have known I liked so much until he showed me.
Desire was instantaneous, a fire that only burned hotter with each passing moment as our lips met, as we kissed slow and soft for a while, then hard and deep as our bodies got impatient for more.
I shimmied down until his hardness pressed against my heat, then rocked shamelessly against him as he folded upward, then arched me back, to suck my nipple into his mouth.
I reached over, pulling open the drawer, and grabbing a condom, handing it to him as my lips claimed his again.
As soon as he was finished, I lifted up, then slowly took him in, sighing as he filled me, as his hands grabbed my ass, and started to move me against him.
It didn’t take long, though, before I was taking over, riding him hard and fast, hurtling toward an orgasm, then crying hard as it crashed through me.
Hooking an arm around me, Detroit moved off the side of the bed, stood, and turned.
He moved me, pushing me onto all fours, then surged back inside of me, dragging a long, low moan from me as he started to fuck me.
His free hand went between my thighs, working my clit as he pounded into me hard enough that my thighs started to smart from my thighs knocking into his.
But I was only barely aware of that as he drove me toward another orgasm, one that seemed to start at the base of my spine and spread outward.
“You feel so fucking good when you’re squeezing my cock,” he groaned, but he was still hard inside of me.
His arms went around me again, turning us so he was sitting off the end of the bed with me in his lap, my back to his chest.
“Ride me,” he demanded as his hands slid up my belly and cupped my breasts, palms squeezing, fingers rolling.
It took me a moment to be driven up again, but then I was doing little rocking motions, head falling back on his shoulder as the position hit all the right places.
“Harder, baby,” Detroit demanded, voice rough. “Fuck, yeah,” he growled as I started to move, rocking harder and faster. “Just like that,” he said as his hand slipped between my thighs to start teasing my clit, driving me up once again.
My walls tightened around him as my nails dug into the sides of his thighs as I held on.
“That’s it,” he hissed, jerking his cock upward into me. “Squeeze my cock,” he demanded.
Then I did.
Over and over and over until my legs gave up on me, forcing him up onto his feet, holding me up as he pounded into me until he found his release too, doing so with this savage curse that made another little mini O course through me.
“Always wake me up like that,” I demanded as we fell back onto the bed together afterward.
“I think I can manage that,” he said, turning me away from him, so he could tuck his body around mine, his arm draped over me, his heat warming my back, making me feel somehow safer than I ever had before.
I was asleep in moments.
I woke up cold, though.
I knew before my eyes even opened that I was alone. The spot behind me was even cool to the touch.
The disappointment was instantaneous and almost overwhelming.
But my gaze slid to the nightstand where there was a thermal travel mug and a plate with an apple turnover sitting there waiting for me.
I wouldn’t pretend to understand the workings of the club. So I figured maybe he had some sort of work to do that meant he couldn’t be with me.
So I sat up, grabbing the remote, and turning on a movie as I sipped my coffee and enjoyed my turnover in bed, warmed with the thought that he’d thought about me as he’d gone about his morning, wanting to make sure he made it clear to me that he’d been thinking about me.
Eventually, I climbed out of bed, showered, then made my way downstairs, and set my mind on cleaning up the mess since I had nothing else to do.
“Oh, hey,” a girl said, coming downstairs in her dress from the night before, eyes wide.
“Hey,” I called, giving her a smile. “Black stilettos or glittery gold flats?” I asked, noting her bare feet.