Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
He doesn’t laugh; he only looks deeply into my eyes. Seconds pass, and then he slowly shakes his head, dragging his thumb along my cheek, catching my tears. “What’s crazy is that there is not nearly enough time in my lifetime for me to love you the way you deserve.”
How am I supposed to think clearly when he says things like that?
A tear rolls once more, and he brushes it away before he lowers his mouth to mine in an intimate, sweet kiss. He has never kissed me like this. So patient, so careful, and it has everything inside turning to goo.
He takes me by the back of the knees and pulls me to him, my ass squeaky against the counter. The laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it, and his lips curve with mine. He can’t hold it in either, and our laughter is our love song. The low tenor of his laugh leaves me throbbing as I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him in against me. His laughter falls off then, and he lifts me up, holding me close as he carries me to the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Need my wallet,” he says, grabbing it with one hand, his other just holding me up under my ass.
“Can I ask how much you lift?” His eyes dance with mine as he takes out the condom and throws his wallet down to the floor. “Also, how many condoms do you have in there?”
His lips turn up in a dirty little grin. “My one rep max is Tennessee Lynn Dent.” I giggle at that, breathless and wild for him. “And this is my last, so we might actually make it to the bedroom next.”
“Oh, we aren’t going that way?”
His breath is strangled. “No way. I can’t make it.”
“Impatient.”
“Fuck, only for you,” he mutters against my lips as he pushes down his shorts, his cock coming up to press into my center. We both groan as he lowers me to the floor once more. “Ms. Dent.”
“Yes, D’Artagnan?”
His lips quirk at that, and I roll him over, straddling him with an ease I didn’t know I had in me. He looks up at me, and I can see the awe on his gorgeous face. “You stay fucking wet for me,” he says, his words deep, uneven.
“Are you surprised?” I ask, sliding my hand down his arm, his wrist, before taking the condom in my hand. I bring it to my lips, tearing it a bit so I have better leverage to open the package. I discard the wrapping before sheathing him, his hiss of breath making me fumble with the condom. I get it on him, thankfully, but before I can guide him inside me, he takes me by my thighs and squeezes me.
“Sit on my face.”
Oh, my insides blow the fuck up. “What?”
“Sit. On. My. Motherfucking. Face. Baby. Doll,” he says, making each word its own sentence. But I’m frozen, unable to move, because surely he doesn’t want my big self sitting on his face.
“I’ll hurt you.”
He scoffs. “No, you won’t.”
“I will. My ass is huge.”
To make his point, he slaps both my cheeks, arching into me. “Believe me, I know.”
His laughter makes my nipples go rock hard as he slides down, my pussy gliding up his chest, the ridges of his muscle bringing me such pleasure. My stomach clenches and my heart pounds when he runs his tongue along the curve of my ass to the inside of my thighs as he places me right above his mouth. “I could suffocate you,” I whimper, but all I’m met with is his laughter.
“Then what a way to go, huh?”
“Dart!”
He slaps my thighs. “Sit down.”
“Dart,” I say, feeling wholly insecure. “I have never been asked to sit on someone’s face because it’s a death wish.”
His eyes meet mine then, his fingers biting into my hips. “Sit.”
I shake my head as the blush creeps up my face. “Dart, I don’t—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his eyes dark and dangerous and so full of lust, but they also encourage me, especially that little pull of his lips to one side. “I got you, baby doll.” I know he does, and his desire for me is overwhelming. I bite my lip and slowly lower myself just over his lips, the warmth causing a moan to escape. “Lower, baby. Lower. I want to drown in that wet pussy.”
Oh, I’m going to fall apart before he even gets his mouth on me. His eyes urge me on, his hands molding my ass as I do as he asks. “Lower,” he demands, and I whimper. “When I tell you to sit on my face, Tennessee Lynn, I mean fucking sit. Don’t hold yourself up, don’t brace yourself. Fucking sit on my face like my mouth is a saddle and. Fucking. Ride. My. Face. Do you hear me?”