Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“We went at it hard the last time, didn’t we?” His voice is guttural and filled with need.
I nod again and manage to whisper, “We did.”
Luc contracts his fingers and gives me a rough squeeze between my legs. “Hard enough we shredded a fucking condom.”
If I thought the mention of the broken condom would put a bucket of cold water on this, I’d be wrong. Because it’s not the pregnancy I’m thinking about but rather the feeling of him inside of me, hitting me deeper than I’ve ever been hit before, and the orgasm that produced was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life.
“We should totally do that again,” he murmurs before biting me on the neck.
“Yes, again,” I agree as I rock against his hand.
—
“Well, that wasn’t exactly like the last time,” I mutter as Luc and I lie side by side on his bed. Both of us are breathing heavy and covered in sweat, staring at the ceiling.
He didn’t take me up against a door, preferring instead to have me on his bed, on my back with my legs pushed high and wide by his hands. He thrust into me with the same ferocious abandon as our first time, but this was even better. There was absolutely no holding back. No fears. No wondering what the other person could handle.
We didn’t have to wear a condom or worry about knocking me up.
We both knew that the other liked it rough and hard.
“We’ll go slower next time,” Luc huffs out from beside me, our shoulders barely touching.
I laugh as I turn my head and look from the ceiling to him, my entire body still slightly trembling from my orgasm.
Luc lifts up and rolls to his side, resting his head in his palm with his elbow pressed into the mattress. His free hand comes out to lie on my stomach, and then he strokes upward over my breasts. He spends a few quiet moments as we regain control of our breathing, lightly circling his fingertips over my nipples, which is not doing much to calm me down.
I watch him watch his hand glide over me. He’s got a peaceful smile on his face, his hair standing up in a dozen different directions, as my hands were fisting it not too gently for a while. This gentle caressing is completely erotic and yet sweet at the same time.
Luc’s eyes slide down my body right along with his hand. Back down over my stomach until he’s skimming through my tightly trimmed curls. I hold my breath but it comes out in a massive rush as he drags just his fingertip down through my lips, causing my legs to fall open. He doesn’t push inside of me, but just gently swirls it around in his semen I can feel leaking out of me. Then he draws that liquid up and circles it around my clit.
My hips come off the bed, but then his hand is gone. He raises it up close to his face, rubs his index finger and thumb together, perhaps testing the silkiness of the moisture he’d just collected. I’ve never seen a man do that before, because, hello, never had sex without a condom before, but I’m almost hypnotized by it. Just like he caressed me a moment ago, it’s strangely erotic yet sweet at the same time.
His gaze slides to mine for a moment then back to his fingers still rubbing together. “Strange isn’t it?” His deep voice rumbles in a slow cadence.
“What’s that?”
Luc looks back at me, and the intensity of his expression causes my breath to hitch again. Holding his hand up and nodding his head to it, he says, “That this little bit of liquid had the ability to change our lives so drastically.”
I can’t even answer him because now that the haze of lust and sex is settling, the talk of the pregnancy causes anxiety to well up inside of me. And for the first time, I have a sense of dread over what’s to come, causing a wave of doubt to course through me.
“I better get going,” I say as I raise up, startling Luc in the process.
“What?” he asks.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I say, “I better get home. I’ve got some things to do.”
He answers by wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me back into the bed. Sensing that I’m not going to just stay, he pushes me to my back and then covers my body with his own. His forearms go to the mattress at my ribs and I’m effectively caged in place.
“It’s a Friday night. What could you possibly have to do that you’d have to run out of here so fast?”
My instinct is to push against him, argue, make up a lie about what I need to do.