Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Then, trying to mend half-burnt bridges, she'd even invited Blake over for dinner.
We'd eaten and talked and then watched a movie.
And it had been pleasant.
No arguing, no hurt feelings, just a group of people enjoying a holiday together like we were supposed to.
Eventually, Blake had taken off to finish sleeping off the party from the night before, and Wynn and I had snuggled on the couch watching Christmas movies.
We'd stuffed our faces with cookies then headed upstairs where we'd made slow, sweet love until we were both spent.
It had been the best holiday of my life.
And I knew as I held her while she drifted off that I wanted a lifetime of Christmases just like that one. Though, eventually, we'd throw some kids into the mix too.
"Wynn..." I said, shaking my head even as she yanked down her bathing suit bottoms, and slid into the water. "Oh," I said, smiling at her as she swam over to me, wrapping me up with arms and legs, and trailing kisses up my neck, attempting—and succeeding—to get me hard. "The pool guy just pulled in, didn't he?" I asked as she reached down into my shorts, pulling out my cock and stroking it until it was straining.
"Yes, and you need to fuck me before he gets here and sees what we're doing," she said, a wicked glint in her eyes as her thighs grabbed my sides as she lifted her body upward, and slid down on my cock.
Her hot, tight pussy was such a change from the cold water that a shiver racked through me at the sensation.
Wynn's arms went around my neck, her forearms braced on my shoulders for stability as she started to lift up, then drop back down. Slow and measured since she didn't have much leverage.
"Unless, of course, you want him to watch us fuck," she added, eyes already getting heavy-lidded. "I'd be okay with that too."
On a groan, I slammed her back against the wall of the pool, pistoning inside her. Fast, deep, driving her up hard and fast.
I didn't give a fuck if the pool guy caught me fucking Wynn. There was even a small thrill at the idea of him seeing, a hidden sort of desire I never would have known about if not for Wynn.
But once my cock was inside her, I needed a release just as badly as she needed the thrill of maybe being seen, being watched.
"Harder, Fitz," she begged as her nails scratched my back bloody as her pussy tightened around me. "Fuck, yes, just like that," she cried between her moans that echoed loudly off the walls in the room. "Don't stop," she cried, her legs starting to shake.
"You're so fucking tight," I growled, fucking her harder still, spurred on by her loud moans, her filthy demands as she got closer and closer. "Fuck," I hissed as her pussy clamped my cock harder as she got right to that edge. "Come for me," I demanded, voice rough. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock," I told her.
And just like that, she was crying out my name as she came.
I fucked her through it, wanting to drag it out.
But before I could slam deep and find my own release, she was all but leaping off of me, then dropping low in the water, and opening her mouth wide.
I didn't need more than that.
I slipped my cock between her lips and fucked her mouth until the climax was slamming through me, making me shove my cock deep into her throat, and coming so hard I was fucking blinded by it for a moment.
"Shit," a third-party voice hissed, making my eyes shoot open, looking down at Wynn who, with my cock still dripping down her throat, attempted to shoot me a smile at the fact that we'd been caught. "Sorry. Sorry," the guy said again, and there was a crashing noise as he rushed out of the pool room.
"You," I said, shaking my head at her as I pulled my cock out of her mouth.
"I know. I'm a dirty little slut, huh?" she asked, eyes triumphant.
My hand reached out, my thumb gliding across her lower lip.
"But you're my dirty little slut," I agreed, feeling that familiar warming sensation across my chest. I got it every time I was close to her, but especially anytime one of us referred to her as mine.
Because that was what she was.
Mine.
I had a ring waiting in my study drawer to seal the deal.
I was just waiting for the right time.
I knew when it was, too.
The night of her art exhibit.
The same art exhibit I'd arranged for her as a Christmas present.
"That's true," she agreed, moving to stand again, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Do you think we traumatized the pool man?" she asked, looking pleased at the prospect.