Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Lowering my lips on his tip, I take him in my mouth and suck lightly as he moans, calling my name and asking me to go on. I lick the underside of his dick while my fingers caress his balls lightly, and I can feel him growing right there in my mouth.
“Can I go deeper?” he asks softly, his voice trembling, and I give him a nod with my mouth full of cock. With a groan, he pushes his length deep inside my mouth, deeper and deeper, until he hits the back of my throat.
I almost gag, but it feels so damn good I can’t stop myself from sucking him, taking his entire length deep in my throat.
“Look at me, Francesca,” he groans, and I do what he asks me, my eyes finding his as I take him in my mouth. He groans again, gripping the bed sheets as I lick him repeatedly, driving both of us insane.
“I can’t,” he finally moans out loud and pulls me up, crushing our mouths together in a passionate kiss. “I have to have you now,” he admits when we finally come up for air.
He positions me on top of him, poising his tip at my dripping wet entrance, and I moan softly, wanting him deep inside me. But he won’t let me move, making me stay a few inches above him until I’m gasping, begging him to let me lower my body.
Then, he finally releases me, aiming the tip of his cock at my pussy, and I slowly lower myself on him. When he enters me, I gasp, a flurry of emotions filling my mind and body.
I never thought it could be this good.
I ride Julian slowly, but taking him deeper with each thrust of his hips. We never look away from one another, our eyes caught in a never-ending play of wits.
I move up, making him almost slide out of my pussy.
“Don’t,” he groans. “Ride me hard, Francesca.”
After a second, I obey him, grinning widely at him as his cock slides back inside of me and we both groan with the pure pleasure of the sensation.
He’s so thick and long I was worried he would fit, but my pussy stretches for him, making him feel welcome deep inside of me.
I lower my head until our lips meet, kissing him like there’s nothing left for me to do in the world.
His hands find my ass and he helps me ride him, our moans and groans becoming one as we melt into one another. I can feel the pleasure bubbling up inside of me, and I know I won’t be able to last much longer.
“Please,” I beg against his lips. “I need you to come, so I can, too ...”
It’s like my words send him over the edge and he pounds deeper, calling my name with each thrust of his hips. And then I we lock eyes again, and neither of us can hold back any longer.
I come with a cry of his name and he buries his face in my breasts, biting down on me gently to stop him from cursing out loud as he releases his hot seed inside me.
“Baby,” he moans. “Oh, fuck, Francesca... You’re perfect. You’re...”
I kiss him right on the lips, playfully tugging on his bottom lip, my heart still pounding.
“I’m the girl of your dreams,” I tease him, but he shuts me up with another kiss.
He rolls me over, positioning himself over my body, both of our hearts pounding, our eyes locked in a fight of wits again.
“You’re the girl I fell in love with as soon as I laid eyes on you,” he says softly. “You’re the girl I see myself loving for the rest of my life.”
Then we make love again, and again, and again.
EPILOGUE
SANTINO
My father asked to see me in his office. I finish up my work and head there. The day is turning into night outside, and my father’s estate is colored in rays of the dying sun.
I knock on the door, and my father’s cracking voice invites me to come in. I walk inside, noticing him coughing into a handkerchief yet again. My doubts about father’s health have gotten worse and worse the past few weeks. Even now, he looks frail, sick and tired. But he hasn’t told me anything that should worry me, so for the time being, I push it to the back of my mind and focus on the files set up on his desk.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask as I near his desk, taking a seat opposite of him. “Something wrong?”
“Yes,” he says gruffly, pushing a photograph toward me. “Recognize this man?”
I stare at the guy. He’s handsome, a little younger than me, with a snaky look in his eyes.
“No, I don’t know him.”
“Well, his name is Piero Rochetti, and he’s been stealing from us for years.”