Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
I drop to my knees on the plush carpet and lick up the length, then cover the head with my lips, running my tongue around the crown, sliding over the weeping slit at the tip.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts.
I pop off long enough to ask, “Am I the best bunny?” Then wrap my lips around him and roll my tongue around the head.
He pulls me off long enough to ask, “Is that what you want? For me to treat you like a bunny?”
“Your only bunny,” I clarify.
“I fucking love you, Bea. More than anything,” he declares.
“I love you, too. But tonight, I want you to fuck me like a toy.”
He blinks a couple of times. Blows out a long breath. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”
“You know my limits,” I assure him.
And he does. Every time, he pushes me right to the edge, and I love every freaking minute of it. I want to drop a hand between my thighs and rub my clit, but I know if I do, I’ll be delaying my release. Instead, I grip his base and cup his balls in my other hand as I bob up and down on his cock. I hum and moan and make loud slurping sounds. When I pop off, I spit on the head and rub it over my lips before I take him into my mouth again, deeper with every pass.
He gathers my hair in his hands and wraps it around his fist. His other palm settles against the soft space under my chin and tips it up. “You gonna take it all like a good little bunny?”
I make an affirmative sound, and he holds my head still, hips pulling back and snapping forward. The head hits the back of my throat, and I gag. I grip my thighs, determined not to grab his in a wordless request to temper his pace. He pulls back and gives me a moment to find my composure and my breath. And then he thrusts again. This time I’m ready.
“That’s it. So fucking good.” His thumb sweeps along the contour of my bottom lip.
He finds a rhythm, holding my head in place while he fucks my mouth, and I moan around his cock, make all the noises I know he loves, drooling all over him. When he comes, I swallow it down. Spit runs down my chin and my neck. My eyes are watering, and I’m on edge and desperate for release, but aware I’ll get it when he’s ready to give it.
He bends to kiss me. It’s sloppy and wet, but he doesn’t seem to care. “You okay with hard and dirty?” he asks.
“Yes, please,” I whisper.
“Such a sweet little bunny, aren’t you?”
A moment later, I’m on my back on the plush carpet in the middle of the living room. From where I’m lying, I can see the roses he had sent to the room for my arrival. My knees end up at my chest, and he licks up the length of me and latches onto my clit. I almost lose my mind at the sensation of it all. Every time I think I’m about to tip over the edge, he stops. And then starts the same torment over again. My panties are still tucked inside me.
He latches back onto my clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and at the same time, he eases a finger inside. He hooks the lacy fabric and tugs as he sucks, and I go careening over the edge into bliss. As I’m coming down from the high, he shoves his fingers into my mouth and pulls my panties free with his teeth. He drops them on the carpet and replaces them with his fingers, making the orgasm feel endless.
He flips me over on my stomach and brackets my legs with his. My cheek is pressed against the plush carpet.
He kisses my temple and orders, “Open.”
I part my lips, and my panties end up in my mouth. And then he slides into me.
I’m so fucking wet. And already coming again. He slips his palm under my cheek so I don’t end up with rug burn on my face and fucks me into the floor. My nipples scrape the carpet, and I taste my own desire as I moan around my panties. As far as dirty fucks go, this absolutely takes the cake.
“I love you.” His lips brush my cheek. “So fucking much.”
I make a noise around my panties.
He pulls them free so I can speak.
“I love you, too.”
On the next thrust, he pulls back, flips me over, and fills me again.
When I come this time, it’s with his eyes on mine, his hands framing my face, and his love for me a mantra on his lips.
EPILOGUE
TRISTAN
One Month Later
“All your kitchen stuff is put away,” Bea announces. “Do you want me to put lunch out for everyone yet, or hold off and tackle the bedroom now that the furniture is where you want it?”