Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
My previous anger died away as if I never felt it in the first place. I crossed the room in a couple steps then fisted the back of her hair like reins to a horse. I tugged her head back and kissed her, kissed her so hard on the mouth I was certain I would bruise her. But fuck, she drove me crazy. My hand snaked to her ass, and I gripped one of her plump cheeks before I hiked her thigh to my waist.
Her hands dove underneath my shirt to feel my bare skin, to feel the muscles that I worked hard to maintain every morning in my private gym. She slid them farther up, pulling it over my head entirely so she could see me.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her into the bedroom, her body like a pillow in my arms. Her arms hooked around my neck, and she kissed me harder than I kissed her, like she’d been thinking about me longer than just today.
I pinned her at the foot of the bed, kissing her as I held her in my arms, her kiss so tantalizing that I didn’t want it to stop. She was good at it, hard when necessary then soft when she needed to take a breath. She turned her head to take my mouth, cupping the side of my face with the depth of affection long-term lovers showed.
A single arm could hold her weight, so I lowered her to the bed as I bore her weight and mine. It was a soft landing, and she hadn’t taken her lips from mine all the while.
She reached for my jeans and yanked them loose in desperation before she shoved them over my ass.
Fuck, she wanted me.
Her thong was crotchless, so I folded her underneath me with my jeans and boxers at my thighs and slid inside her, squeezed by her tightness and smeared in her pleasure. It took one thrust and then another to push farther inside, to enter the paradise I couldn’t resist. Once I was fully sheathed, I felt the surge of heat that instantly made me sweat. The pleasure was indescribable, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.
She moaned like she felt it too. Her palms flattened against my chest as her hair stretched out behind her on the bed. Those emerald eyes were already wet with anticipation because she knew I would make her come.
I would always make her come. “You missed me, Pretty?”
Her enthusiasm was immediate. “Yes.”
“I can tell this pretty pussy fucking missed me.”
“Yes…”
With my pants halfway down, I thrust into her, already weak by her tightness. I ground right against her clit because I needed her to release quicker than usual. After days without her, I didn’t have the same tolerance I had before. The second I was inside her, all I wanted to do was let go.
But she was even more hard up than I was because she came right away, so fast it made me wonder if she’d gotten started before I arrived, and that her fingers weren’t doing the job that only my dick could do.
Her nails dug deep into my arms as she released the sexiest moans, suppressed cries, wet tears that streaked down her cheeks like diamond rivers. It ruined her makeup, but I liked it better.
I came inside her with a grunt, forgetting just how good this felt until I felt it again.
That didn’t seem to be enough for her because she kissed me with the same hardness as before, like that was merely an appetizer.
“Fuck,” I said against her mouth. “You really did miss me, baby.”
She lay on one side of the bed while I lay on the other.
Pieces of her lingerie had been ripped away through the night. Now all she wore was the garter belt, the straps dangling around her because they didn’t have the stockings to attach to. She seemed to drift off more than once, waking with a jolt like she knew she couldn’t be asleep.
My arm scooped her and pulled her back toward me, bringing her face to my shoulder. There were bumps on her arms, so I knew she was cold.
She settled into me right away, like her favorite teddy bear.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, my lips brushing her hairline.
“Why do you ask me?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“Because you’re the head chef here.”
She grinned against my chest. “Wish I had my own chef to make me food.”
“Eh. He’s got an attitude.”
“How does he have an attitude when you’re his boss?”
“Who said I’m his boss?” I asked with a laugh. “He’s in charge of the food, so he’s the boss, if you ask me.”
She chuckled. “I like that attitude.”
“He’s very particular about what he serves, based on what’s available and in season, so I don’t have a lot of say in what we eat. Not that I’m complaining, because it’s not like I have to prepare it and clean up afterward.”