Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“You tell me.”
A soft thump on the shower floor had Wells glancing back over his shoulder—and down—to find Josephine on her knees, her lips tracing the valley of his ass, her eyes closed like she’d never tasted anything finer, and his pulse began hammering out of control, a new kind of serpentine lust uncoiling and slithering in the lowest region of his belly. What was happening here? Why was this the most turned on he’d ever been in his fucking life?
“What are you going to—”
Her tongue raked up the part of his backside—firmly—and traveled over the pucker of his asshole, sliding over it roughly once, twice, three times, while his knees verged on buckling and then, holy shit, she reached through his thighs and started to jack him off, her tongue still working and prodding and licking his rear entrance like her goal was to drive him fully insane. And she was. God help him, his right foot slid wider with a wet squeak of tile, so she could have more, and she moaned gratefully in response and nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for the animalistic surge of lust that tightened his balls and made him growl at the shower wall, without even really seeing it, because he’d gone fucking blind.
“You are in for such a fucking pounding, Josephine, I swear to God,” he said hoarsely. “Enjoy being on your knees, baby, because you’re going to spend the rest of the night on your back dealing with my dick. You’ve got one more minute.”
He’d live to regret that. Or maybe the opposite. He didn’t know.
She made the most out of that minute.
That grip of hers cinched up tighter around his painful erection, luxuriating in every single thorough stroke, while she did things with her tongue that he’d never even fantasized about. Had no idea he would even enjoy. She wet him down so thoroughly that when she entered him with her thumb, there was no discomfort, only this mind-blowing pressure in his balls that increased and increased the deeper she pushed, until he was shouting epithets at the wall. He probably made it only thirty seconds of that final minute before he was slapping off the shower spray, turning around, and scooping Josephine off the floor by her armpits. No sooner had he settled her on her feet outside the shower than he was tossing her up into his arms and kicking open the bathroom door, exiting into the hallway.
“Can I come inside you again?” Her desire-dazed expression only made him more desperate to lay her down and connect their bodies. Now. By any means necessary. He needed to get close and feel her have a goddamn orgasm. Watch her take his climax between her thighs and love every second. Every stroke. Every drop. “I’ve got seven days of frustration waiting for your pussy, Josephine. Can I take it raw? Yes or no.”
She had to cross her legs, right there in his arms while he carried her. Squeeze them together tight. A good sign if he’d ever seen one. “Yes. You can.”
“Bedroom.”
“There.”
Wells stormed into the room she indicated, seeing nothing. He just dropped her onto the bed-shaped thing and lunged into the space between her thighs, fitting himself into her tightness and pumping home. Hard and deep, giving her every inch of the cock she’d made so stiff, he could barely breathe. “Son of a bitch,” he growled, dropping down to roll his face around in her neck. “You have no idea what it’s like to miss you, baby. No fucking idea.”
“I have some idea,” she murmured, kissing the side of his face.
She lifted her knees and rubbed her inner thighs against his rib cage.
It was too much at once. Her words—the implication that she’d missed him, too—along with the welcome of her body was like a balm to his wounds. By some miracle, she seemed to know their exact location and how to treat them.
Mine. My Josephine. End of story.
Her fingers sank into his wet hair, her hips shifting and rising beneath him. And it felt so good, he had to roughly pin down her lower body or risk coming too soon.
“So smooth. God. Your body is so smooth,” he praised in her ear, easing into the fuck with shallow thrusts of his cock, teasing her and testing himself, trying desperately to keep a grip on the pressure that needed an outlet so badly, he was on the verge of destruction. “That goes double for your cunt, Josephine. You ride so nice and smooth, don’t you?”
And hot damn. Maybe he needed to stop talking to her like that, because she gasped and bucked beneath him, her intimate muscles seizing up in an erotic pattern, making his eyes roll back in his head. The way she squeezed him had to be illegal.