Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I squeeze her ass instead. Make her laugh when I lean down and bite it. Then I glide my hand up her back, curl my fingers around her neck, and roughly pull her against me. The friction is exactly what I’m looking for, so I thrust again. Again. Harder.
Maren grabs onto the headboard. My heart thunders. Dick throbs. The need for release overtakes any coherent thought.
I need her with me. Against me. All over me.
I wrap an arm around her middle and pull her upright so she’s on her knees, her back to my front. The position isn’t the best, the deepest. But I manage to stay inside her while I play with her breasts. Palm her belly.
Reach between her legs and play with her clit.
She reaches back to curl her hand around my nape. “Tuck.”
“Tiny.”
She rocks her hips a little. More friction.
I feel like I’m about to explode. I want more too.
I want this to last forever.
I’m hanging by a thread, but I somehow manage to fall onto my back and take her with me so that she’s sitting on top. She straddles my hips with her legs and rises up on her knees. Then she reaches for my cock and carefully puts me back inside her. I palm her hips and pull her down onto me. Her hands land on my stomach and she sucks in a breath. “Wow.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head again. “You can stop asking me that. This is. Just. Full. Good. Very good full.”
I laugh. “Very good full. Didn’t know that was a thing.”
She playfully swats at my shoulder as she rises up above me. “It wasn’t. Until now. You. Until—oh.”
I roll my thumb over her clit. Her lips part as she begins to ride me. These smooth, strong rolls of her pelvis. It’s the most beautiful dance I’ve ever seen.
Reaching up to cup her breast, I thumb her nipple. Roll my other thumb over her clit. She rocks against me harder, putting a hand on my chest for leverage.
Her eyes are hazy. Hot.
Happy.
“Come for me,” I say.
Her head falls back. “I can’t. Too soon. But keep touching. That, I like.”
“Not sure how much longer I got.”
“You go.” She pants the words. “Please, Tuck, go.”
It hits me like a crack of lightning. Maren is on a down thrust, her pussy lips spreading around my girth. Her tightness milks the orgasm from my balls to my head in one heartbeat flat. White light fills my vision. My skin.
I can’t breathe.
I come in hot, endless pulses inside her. The pleasure is excruciating, the kind that strips you bare and leaves you out to die. Shouting, I tighten my grip on Maren and hold on.
I hold her.
She covers my hands with hers. There’s something infinitely soothing about the gesture. Especially when she tangles her fingers with mine, just like I did when I made her come.
Like she knows I need her as much as she needed me in that moment.
No one can withstand this kind of feeling alone.
She gets it. Without me having to say a word, she fucking gets it.
The orgasm’s sharp edges soften until they disappear altogether. Leaving me a gasping, spent mess in their wake. My heart is everywhere: in my skin, my dick, which is still inside Maren.
“You’re such a cliché, Superman.”
I open my eyes to find her smiling down at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Pussy is your kryptonite.”
Seriously, this girl needs to stop making me laugh, or—
Or what?
“Your pussy is my kryptonite.” I give her hips a squeeze before I pull her against me so that she’s bent at the waist, her tits to my chest. “That was . . . way too good.”
She pulls up her arms and burrows into my chest. She’s warm. Warm and so freaking soft. Can’t help but wrap her in my arms.
I can feel her heart beating hard and fast against my breastbone.
Without thinking I run my fingertips across her back. Goosebumps break out over her skin. She shivers.
“That was good,” she says.
I hold her closer against me. Press a kiss to the top of her head. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Yes. I’ll be fine. That orgasm—I think it wrecked me, Tuck.”
“You really can’t come more than once?”
She shakes her head, digging her fingers into my chest hair. “I can get close the second time, but never quite to the finish line. I don’t hate it, because it usually means the orgasms I do have are really, really good.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re halfway to another orgasm right now?”
“I guess so, yeah. Sometimes it just goes away, and other times—”
“You take care of it a little later. When you’re ready.”
Her eyes spark with understanding. “Yes.”
“Mind if I stick around so I can be the one to take care of it?”
She looks at me. I look back. Bad idea.