Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“My t-tits?” she whispers.
“Get them out. I’m going to explode.”
She fusses with her dress, but then I lose patience, growling as I reach forward and pull it down. She whimpers in that adorable way when I pull her bra down, too, revealing her breasts.
“So perfect for breastfeeding,” I tell her, and she glows, taking it as a compliment. “And for something else… Get to the end of the bed and push them together.”
“Like this?” she murmurs, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Her small hands push her big breasts together. Leaning down, I angle up, gliding my precome-slick cock between her tits.
“I’m going to drench them,” I tell her. “Drench your young, fertile body with my come.”
She moans as I begin fucking her tits, grabbing her shoulders and arching up. I stare at her eager nipples and the veins zigzagging across her sizable, juicy, perfect chest.
“Tell me,” I grunt, hardly able to speak as the friction sets my shaft ablaze.
She doesn’t need to ask me what I want to hear.
“I’m yours,” she moans, staring wide-eyed at me. “Only yours. Forever. Just me and you, Leo. That’s all I want. Just us. Only us.”
I roar as the come surges up my shaft and explodes all over her chest, wave after wave pumping out of me, the end of my dick sizzling with the release. Everything hones down to that one point, the come gushing. Then I massage it over her tits, slide it down her body, kneel, and bring my seed-covered hand to her hole. I rub her release over her pussy, meaning to finger fuck her again, my cock already beginning to get hard.
My cell phone rings. Dammit. When I check it, I know I have to stop.
“It’s work,” I tell Emma.
“That’s okay,” she murmurs, though she looks ready for more. “This was a mistake, anyway.”
“Nothing we ever do together is a mistake,” I snap. “We belong together.”
She tilts her head sassily. “I agree, but you know what I mean.”
My phone keeps ringing—business calling, the war beckoning—but I’d rather stay here with my woman. Now that I’ve emptied my load, maybe I could diffuse the animal inside just a little. Enough to lie with her, hold her, gently stroke my hand across her shoulder or run it through her hair. Let her know I’ll always be here.
“I know,” I sigh, “but I still can’t think of it as a mistake. Ever. Not us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Emma
The next morning, Rosa and I sit on the rooftop garden. Each time we come here, it reminds me of when this all started, the man appearing and changing everything. Rosa pushes a croissant around her plate with a fork, staring at it listlessly.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she murmurs.
No, I can’t do this. I can’t listen to more apologies from her, especially after what Leo and I did. It’s like I’m stuck in a perpetual loop. Do something intimate, romantic, or life-changing with Leo, then sit and listen as Rosa says sorry when she doesn’t need to.
“I understand. You were upset. You have every right to be.”
“I can’t believe I did that to Mom’s shrine.”
“Did you see it this morning? It’s as good as new.”
Rosa smiles sadly. “Good old Eddie.”
Guilt twists into me, through me, angry, ugly, and very much deserved. I try to ignore it, but it keeps rising like a monster ready to swallow me and my most cherished friendship whole. I shouldn’t tell her before I’ve cleared it with Leo. He has a right to be part of this decision, but at the same time, I feel like I have to. The longer we let this go on, the worse it will be when we finally do tell her.
“Rosa…”
“Hmm?” She looks up from the untouched croissant. Her eyes narrow. “Whoa, Emma, what’s wrong?”
I’m about to ask why she thinks something’s wrong, but she can read me, mostly. Sure, I can hide secret relationships from her and steamy encounters with her dad, but overall, through the years, Rosa has been able to read me just like I’ve been able to read her. Now, with the emotion pressing close to the surface, she can see it. I can’t run anymore.
“Hey…” Rosa shuffles her chair around the table and gently touches my arm. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”
I clear my throat and warn myself not to cry. If I start sobbing, she’ll go into full best friend comforting mode. Without knowing the reason for my tears, she’ll hold me and be there for me like always.
“I’m not sure you can say that—”
I get a major dose of déjà vu when somebody suddenly bursts onto the rooftop garden. I think I’ve slipped back in time, but then I push that thought away. It’s crazy, and I no longer have to think like that. I thought wanting Leo was on the same scale as the delusion I experienced after Mom’s death, but he proved me wrong. I’m not imagining it. Eddie runs into the garden, panting, his face red.