Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“Yeah, right, duchess,” I say pulling her closer to me. Five weeks without her touch or her taste was entirely too long. I’ve been in severe withdrawals, but now my drug is back in within my reach and I’m going take it.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she moans as I suck her nipple into my mouth.
“I missed you, my love.” I am straight up ravenous for her. I move down her body, my tongue guiding me in the darkness until I get to her already drenched pussy. She automatically parts her thighs for me, and I lose my mind for. Just like I always do, just like I always will. The split second my tongue hits her clit, I groan. I’ve missed her taste. Her touch. Her hands move to my hair as she grinds her pussy into my face.
“I missed you too,” she says, sighing in contentment.
“You taste so fucking good. If I’m ever on death row, this right here is my last meal,” I tell her, meaning ever fucking word of it. My obsession with her grows every single day and
“Fuck,” she hisses. “I don’t want this; I need your cock.” She pulls on my shoulders, trying to get me to move, but I don’t. Sliding a finger into her, I work her pussy until she comes on my fingers. She’s gripping me like she never wants me to let her go. As if I’d ever do that. I keep licking her until she comes back down.
Finally, I move so that my cock is poised at her entrance, sucking my fingers into my mouth. Why waste deliciousness?
“God, you are so fucking beautiful,” I tell her as I press into her.
“You can’t even see me,” she says on a moan.
“It doesn’t matter, duchess. I know exactly what you look like. I could be blind, and I’d still know how fucking beautiful you are. How sexy,” I tell her, lowering my head for a kiss. I push into her fully and she clutches my back.
“Move, please,” she says, and I do. I fuck in and out of her, lost in her. Only she does this me. Only she can.
It will be us forever.
Nothing will ever change that.
epilogue
PATIENCE
TEN YEARS LATER
We are in the Green Salon at the Pinnacle and it’s our anniversary. It’s our home away from home. We use the club several nights a week, once the kids are in bed and the nanny is in charge. Not much has changed in the club over the years, except the membership has grown and we have two locations now. Holly has her hands full, but she runs both locations like the boss she is. Eleven years ago, right out in the main room, we said I do, and we still can’t keep our hands off of each other. I don’t know how we ever get anything done. I just got home from a ten week shoot in India while Logan stayed at home with the kids. All six of them. Thankfully, my parents are on hand to help out and they love the kids, so it all works out. Logan has retired from rugby. He had one too many injuries to his hand and the last time it didn’t heal as well as he would have liked. He coaches the Lions now, so that keeps him happy when I’m not home. When I am home the only that keeps him happy is my pussy. When we are here, we can be whoever we want to be. We’ve been locked in this room for probably three hours now. He’s had me every way possible and still we are showing no signs of stopping. I couldn’t even tell you how many orgasms I’ve had, but it doesn’t matter, because there is always another one right behind it. Always. Right now, his through exploration of my body is driving me insane, but then he moves, and I shiver in anticipation. He drags his cock through my super sensitive wet fold before slamming into me so hard, my body moves six inches up the bed.
“Take my cock, duchess,” my still ridiculously hot husband demands, and I do. By God, do I take his cock. He slides in and out of me, powerfully and I can do nothing but take what he gives me. My pussy clenches around him as I come, he’s seconds behind me. I feel him fill me, though I should probably tell him that I’m twelve weeks pregnant. I spent most of my time in India, sick. I chocked it up to a food and climate change, but that wasn’t it all. He pulls out me and climbs off of me, moving to lie beside me. He pulls me close to him and holds me.
“God, I missed you,” I tell him, running my fingernails over his pecs.