Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The first strike sends me to the tips of my toes on an objected squeak.
The next, however, receives a needy moan.
Ry leans over to press his lips near my ear. “You like that, baby?”
There’s no reluctance to meet his gaze.
Nod.
Whimper.
Untamed growls seep free and the spanking continues causing me to close my eyes.
Melt into the ecstasy.
And as he continues to swat, redden one cheek and the other, his breathing becomes staggered.
Choppy.
Almost not existent.
My body shudders profusely at every strike, pussy growing wetter and wetter and wetter with each one.
There’s barely time to suck in a breath between the tool being abandoned on the bar countertop and his cock diving deep. The soaking wet muscles are savagely stretched to their limits. Immediately conquered and commanded to accommodate his thick size. My fingers claw at the leather cushion underneath me for leverage while he presses his palm into the middle of my back to keep me pinned. Voracious thrusting is met by equally rapacious bucking. Despite my trapped nature, I throw my lower half into every wild pump, wanting and desperately needing to feel all of his body barbarously colliding with mine.
Fingers from his other hand glide themselves into my hair to latch on. They yank my head up allowing the previously smothered screams to echo throughout the kitchen. Slick, sloppy sounds from his relentless pounding join the stream of cries pouring past my quivering lips. Burning builds between my thighs, creating an anxiousness to give my clit the tiniest rub, yet due to my sexually seized nature there’s no reaching it.
No helping myself over the edge of an orgasmic cliff.
I’m simply left to dangle and whine and chase the toe-curling sensations his balls cause when they brush against it. My pussy swells and releases and swells again, using its own version of Morse code to command the need for more stimulation.
More pressure.
As if professionally trained in reading my body, Ry relocates his hand from my back to the very spot I need it most. He instantly pushes, receiving an airy moan of gratitude before rolling his digits around in body shaking circles. The faster they begin to move the greedier I grow for their frantic rubbings, and the more frantic they become the faster my ass works itself against his unyielding hammering.
Unlike our usual rounds in which I get off at least once first, the two of us explode together in a fit of breathless screams and airy huff. Torrid torrents from him crash into sweltering surges from me overwhelming the tight space with sticky secretions. Cum drips past where we’re smashed together as though determined to create a need for an immediate shower, and the feeling of it trickling down my leg has me mindlessly moaning to go another around in that location.
So, we do.
Breakfast is abandoned for a second session in the shower which is followed up with being personally dried by Ry’s towel and tongue.
By the time, we’re finally settling at the bar for breakfast, I’m sexually stated but physically fucking starving. This time the bacon blocker lets me eat freely. Scarf down as much of it as I want without worrying about himself whatsoever. We devour the spread of eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh fruit, and orange juice while reminiscing on the birthdays we had without one another.
His tales are heartbreaking.
They include gifts of 8 balls and bongs.
Memories of activities being unclear.
Its evident it irks him; however, he continues to share.
Push through the discomfort.
Prove he can be open with me.
My stories involving my ex are much duller.
Sadder in their own way.
Xander was never much for celebrating so we typically just went to dinner while gifts were always practical like a fancy pill holder for my meds, which Ry immediately gets up to grab for me to take.
He places the pills directly in front of me at the same time he teases, “Guy sounds like a real party animal.”
I lightly chuckle while reaching for the objects. “It was fine. Katherine always made it up to me. A spa day here. Lunch in the Hamptons there-”
“Wait,” Ry cautiously starts right after I swallow my medication, “what do you mean a lunch in The Hamptons there? We’re nowhere fucking near The Hamptons. Are you telling me she would just put you two on a plane-”
“Usually a private jet.”
“-just so that you could eat at some restaurant a million states away?”
Nodding is instantly done. “We didn’t usually spend the night. She has a love hate, relationship with the area, but it was always an option if I wanted.”
Shock has his jaw bobbing in a speechless fashion prior to him defeatedly sighing, “That’s the shit I’m fucking competing against?”
“Oh, babe,” I sweetly coo and place an adoring palm on his leg, “you’re never competing against Katherine.”
“Because she automatically fucking wins?”
“No, because fucking me automatically wins.” The waggling of my eyebrows gets us both laughing. “Trust me, being loved and shown love like you do wins – hands down – for the best gift.”