Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Only your mouth,” he ordered when I went to press my hands to his thighs.
I dropped my hands, and he reached down and gathered them up with the hand that wasn’t planted in the bed holding his body up.
Once he had my hands, he shifted them up high over my head and linked his fingers with all of mine, then pressed them to the bed.
Slowly he started to work his hips, feeding me his cock one delicious inch at a time.
When I’d start to get overwhelmed with his size, he would pull back, allowing me to breathe deeply before pushing back inside.
Over and over he did this, fucking my mouth with a slow, sensual heat that was all Bourne.
I should’ve known that he’d want slow.
He always wanted slow.
“Do you want to swallow me?” he asked.
I must’ve looked a little worried because he pulled back with a laugh.
“It’s okay,” he said.
“I’ve never done it before,” I told him. “I’m honestly kind of scared of that part. What if I choke and puke all over you?”
He grinned and took one of my hands and wrapped it around his cock.
My hand looked ghostly pale against his tanned cock.
“You don’t, like, sunbathe in the nude, do you?” I asked, looking at the difference of color between his cock and his abs.
“No.” He started to work his hips faster, forcing me to hold on and watch as he slowly fucked himself with my fist. “Where do you want me?”
Everywhere.
I wanted him everywhere.
I licked my lips and fell back to the bed, my fingers going to the waistband of my jeans.
He watched in silence as I slowly kicked my shorts off, followed shortly by my shirt.
His eyes took me in, touching on every single place that I found unsexy as hell.
But the more he took in, the hotter his eyes got, until his cock had gone to absolute stone right in front of me.
“God, you’re so beautiful that it hurts,” he murmured. “I want to taste every single inch of you. And even though I’ve had you before, it’s like I’m a kid in a candy shop. I don’t know where to fucking start.”
I widened my legs and gestured to my lower half.
“How about you start with your cock in me?” I suggested. “I’m all worked up from you fucking my mouth.”
He grinned and completely ignored my suggestion, going down to his belly in front of me before burying his face between my legs.
Let’s just say that there wasn’t any hesitancy in Bourne at all. He wasn’t unsure about anything he did and giving me oral sex seemed like a skill that he had to have mastered.
“Jesus.” I all but bowed off the bed the moment his tongue touched my clit. “That felt like a livewire.”
As if he’d touched that tiny little part of me with something that was much more conductive than his tongue.
He laughed and pushed me back down, then went about swirling his tongue around the tiny little bud, touching but not quite giving me exactly what I wanted.
His fingers probed at my entrance, dipping inside but just as quickly coming back out, giving me a hint of what I wanted while also holding back.
“Why do you tease me so?” I whined.
“Because I don’t want you to come,” he growled. “I just want you hot for me like I am for you.”
“I am,” I promised. “So, so hot.”
I wiggled in his hold, trying to force him to take more of me than he wanted to take.
He chuckled against my pussy, his tongue vibrating with his amusement.
“It’s not funny,” I panted. “Please, I need…”
He added a finger.
Slowly.
Torturously.
And the man was aware of what he did to me. Aware of how much I wanted him. Needed him.
He was killing me softly. Slowly.
I latched onto his ears, hoping for purchase when I knew that I wouldn’t find anything.
“Bourne.”
He slowly slid that finger inside, nice and easy, traitorously slow.
I wanted to snap my legs together around his head and force him to do more, but I knew what that would get me.
Something slower.
And I couldn’t do slower.
So I stayed put where I was, allowing him to do what he wanted to me—what was the definition of torture again?—and nearly died of overstimulation.
When he finally pulled back, I was on fire.
My fingers were tingling. The tips of my breasts were hard and needy little points. My clit was singing.
And my vagina? Bourne Pena now owned that.
All he’d have to do was flick his finger in my direction, and I’d come running, even if it was another torturously slow thing like he was used to doing.
He crawled up my body, his mouth skimming over my hip bones, followed shortly by my navel, then up past my ribs to my breasts.
He let his tongue slide out as he went over one tip, causing a moan to shakily escape my mouth before he paused at my collarbone to suck the skin into his mouth and bite down lightly.