Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I claw my nails down his back as he hammers into me. I don’t think it can get any better until he reaches between us and presses the heel of his palm to my clit. The pressure on my nub and the feel of his hand sends my brain into overload.
With the angle he’s thrusting at and the weight of his hand, he sends me to another place. When he turns his hand and uses his fingers to massage my clit, I’m totally done for.
“Bishop, oh, fuck,” I scream. “What the fuck.”
“You’re so wet,” he pants. “You’re squirting all over me.”
He doesn’t say that in disgust. It’s as if he’s relishing the fact that he has gotten me to. He pulls out, giving me false hope of a reprieve.
I’m flipped on all fours faster than I can take my next breath. He reaches for one of the pillows and tucks it under my belly. My ass is in the air like an offering to him.
He wastes no time taking that offering. His face is buried in my core, working that sinful mouth. Damn, this man can eat some pussy.
“I can’t,” I whimper as I feel myself building again.
He doesn’t back off. Instead, he responds with a greedy groan and his fingers pushing inside me. My legs tremble beneath me.
He thrusts back into me right as I hit the pentacle of bliss. I see stars. This man has rendered all other men useless. I don’t ever want another man touching my body.
“That’s my girl,” he croons as I explode again.
He tips my head back and takes my mouth in a kiss that has my thoughts making no sense whatsoever. In the span of seconds, I’ve promised him babies, my trust fund, and a new Lamborghini. Insane, I tell you.
I don’t have a damn trust fund. My father said he wasn’t going to ruin us and make three entitled brats. I don’t have the money to buy Bishop a Honda much less a damn Lambo.
“Yes, yes,” I cry out as he works right through my release.
I feel his hot seed shoot into me, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. I wait for him to soften, but it doesn’t happen. He keeps going.
I once told Isha she was a damn liar when she told me about a guy she was sleeping with who would come and could still go. I guess I owe her an apology. I have seen the light.
“How’s your ankle, baby?”
“Oh my God. My ankle? It’s my kitty you should be worried about,” I pant.
He chuckles and kisses my neck. He reaches for my clit, tapping it as he pounds into me. My eyes roll back. I scream and gush around him.
Yup, he can have my babies. Or am I supposed to have his? Damn, someone is snoring loud as fuck.
CHAPTER 17
Sway
Bishop
She’s passed out on me again. This time, I’ll let her sleep. It’s been a long night.
Running a hand through my sweaty hair, I smile down at her. She’s so fucking gorgeous. I can hardly stand to keep my hands off her.
Not to mention, I had two years of fucking to make up for. Boy, was Saga worth the wait. Her tight, wet pussy quenched every thirst I had.
My head starts to buzz with music. My fingers itch to strum my guitar. I look at Saga, torn between lying here with her and getting this song out of my head.
“Da-da-dah,” I sing. I tug at my hair. “Fuck.”
I slip from the bed and grab my guitar. Not bothering with throwing on any clothes, I sit on the couch in the living room and start to play. It starts to come together. I grab the pen and paper on the table and start to jot down the words.
I have two verses and half a hook when Saga appears in her black robe. I smile at her as she stops before me. Reaching out, I wrap an arm around her waist.
“Did I wake you?” I murmur into her belly.
I close my eyes, savoring the fact that she smells of us. If I didn’t think she was sore, I’d peel this robe from her body again to have her once more.
“No,” she says, moving to sit beside me. “Will you play for me?”
I lean to peck her lips. “Whenever you want,” I reply. “What do you want to hear?”
“Is that a new song you were just playing?” she asks.
“Yeah, it’s not ready though.”
She gives me a blinding smile, placing her head on my shoulder while looking up at me dreamily. I don’t know what I did to earn that look, but I want to put it there as often as I can. I kiss the tip of her nose.
“Play me your favorite song,” she says.
“That I can do.”
I start to play the notes to Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” She beams as bright as the sun when I start to sing the lyrics. This song says exactly how I felt when I watched her sleep.