Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Oh, I do like that. Is that what you’re going to do, my beautiful Grace? Are you going to give me anything I want?”
“Yes,” I answer, fighting my own nerves.
“Are you mad I teased your body while you were sleeping?” he asks, still slowly stroking my pussy. Now his fingers are making circles around my clit. It’s just a light touch, not meant to build my need, just to tease. It may drive me crazy.
“No, I wanted you when I came to bed,” I tell him honestly. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You just tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want whenever you want. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whimper, as he finally grinds a finger against my swollen clit.
“Yes, what?” he prompts.
“Yes, sir,” I moan.
“Such a good girl. You are utter perfection,” he praises. “Now it’s time for your reward.”
“Yes …”
I try to look over my shoulder to see what he’s doing, but he swats my ass. There’s a sting, but it’s gentle at the same time. “Look straight ahead, baby.” I bite my lip but do as he demands. I feel him shifting behind me, and I jerk as his head presses under me. His hands come up to my thighs. “Ride me, Grace. Ride my face and drown me in your cum.” Then he pulls me down and insists I grind on his mouth as he sucks and licks relentlessly, pushing me into another orgasm. My last thought before I come so hard that I almost black out is that before he’s done with me, I might die.
But what a way to go …
30
GRACE
Two Weeks Later
It seems unreal how much things have changed in two weeks. When Ford asked me to give us a chance, I didn’t expect my life would change so drastically. I actually was prepared for the worst. The complete opposite has happened. With every day that passes, I’m falling deeper and deeper in love. My son is currently in hero worship mode with Ford, too. I never imagined having more children, but Ford has talked often about us having more kids. His biggest concern is that Asher would feel like he would love another child more than him. As Asher’s mother, the concern and love Ford has shown him has made me feel safe enough to let down all of my walls. I’m completely open to Ford now and the strangest thing is, I still feel safe.
Ford’s currently outside shooting basketball with my son. When he discovered how much Asher loved the sport, they began playing together every evening. Sometimes other members of the club join them. I’ve never heard my son laugh as much as I have since we came here. He’s truly happy and maybe that’s why it’s easier for me to stop worrying.
“Dang it! Where are you?” I mutter as I look through yet another tote and come up empty.
“What are you looking for?” Ford asks, coming through the side entrance of the garage.
“An iron. I can’t find one in your house. I know I packed one, but I can’t find it. I should have organized my packing better.”
Ford gives me a sexy grin and struts over to me. “You didn’t find one because I don’t own an iron.”
“I figured that out, but how do you not own one? What do you do about wrinkles?”
He shrugs. “Wrinkles eventually work their way out. It’s not like I wear fancy shit that has to be pressed.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, my shirt needs ironed. Can you move this tote for me so I can look at the one beneath it?”
He picks it up and moves it to the side. “There you go, gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” I respond distractedly. I take the top off, already more than positive that I won’t find an iron. “I’m going to be here all night because I can’t remember the right tote,” I huff, talking to myself.
“If you’d quit being so stubborn and just admit that you are hopelessly in love and want to stay here, you could move your shit into our house where it belongs,” Ford argues. “That is, unless you’re just planning on leaving already, despite how much it would kill me.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I gasp, looking up at him.
“Then let me get the guys to move your shit inside, Grace.”
“Well, I was thinking of asking you to do that this week, but now you’re just being an asshole.”
“I’m not. I … Wait. Let’s back things up a bit. Did you just say that you were okay with moving in?”
“I did,” I huff, still irritated.
“Grace—”
“Let’s face it, I don’t want to leave you, Ford. Besides, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t let me anyway.”
“You’d be right,” he says, looking at me with a huge smile on his face. “God, Grace. I fucking love you.”
“I love you, too,” I respond, looking right at him. Those words used to terrify me, but in two weeks, this man has managed to make me feel completely cherished and safe. It’s a heady feeling.