Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“This is crazy,” she pants, as I push down her sweats.
All I can manage is a hum of agreement against her skin. Laying her out on the dirty ground isn't an option, so I do the only thing this situation allows and that's lowering myself into a sitting position. She stands in front of me as I hold my hands up to her but her hesitation is nearly nonexistent.
I wish I had more time, a bed, days, scratch that, years to enjoy this moment. But the heat between us is fervent. The need tugging at me. My mouth hangs open in awe as she settles on top of me without even looking. Her time with the suction cup toy has made her an expert. It nearly comes to an end the second I watch her mouth hang open and her eyes get a hazy glow to them.
Her pleasure is obvious. There's just something about a woman enjoying sex that makes a man incapable of controlling his own body. I lift my hands to her hips, holding her still for a long moment in an effort to gain better control.
She rolls her hips, adjusting to the fullness. Her mouth slightly agape, I use the opportunity to press my lips to hers, licking into her mouth, like I want to do all over her delicious body.
She's absolute perfection. The end game of all conquests. Nothing else will ever compare.
“I'm not on birth control,” she whispers.
The feel of her tight pussy clamping down even harder with her words makes a moan of my own escape my lips. “Are you purposely trying to make me come too fast?” I ask, my grip growing tighter on her hips. Her soft chuckle is almost as perfect as the noises she makes when she comes.
“The thought of getting me pregnant makes you want to come?”
“Jesus,” I grunt. “Stop talking about it.”
A sly look crosses her face and she wiggles her hips again. And all I can do is lick my thumb and press it to her clit, with a small prayer that she’s able to come just as fast as I know I’m going to. My thighs clench in an effort not to fuck up into her when she starts to move. I have imagined my cock inside of her, every time I've seen her ride that fucking toy. The actual experience is a million times better than I ever could have dreamed of.
“So thick,” she whispers. “So full.”
I grind my back molars together, my jaw clenching. “Are you purposely trying to torture me?” I ask.
She doesn't grin this time, her pleasure too all encompassing. She rolls her hips at the same speed I circle her clit. Her mouth hangs open, her head tilts back, and I know she's more lost in her own pleasure than trying to distance herself from the situation.
I know her orgasm is seconds from happening when that deep red flush spreads from her throat to the top of her breasts. I can hold out no longer.
“Touch your clit,” I command, as I grip both of her hips and hold her aloft. She doesn't miss a beat as her hand reaches between her legs. The brush of her fingers on the base of my cock, encourage me to go harder, faster, deeper.
When her eyes find mine as if she can't believe how good it feels, I lock them there, keeping her captured in my gaze. Her body only clenches once in warning of what's to come before her orgasm truly begins. The clench of her body is nothing like the grip of my own hand, which has always been a sore substitute for the real thing.
“Gonna come,” I pant in warning, but she doesn't move. She doesn't attempt to climb off me. She doesn't attempt to get away so I don't fill her up. It magnifies my orgasm tenfold. I’m breathless when she settles, still fully impaled on my cock. The comedown is exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. I hold her there for long moments before either of us speak.
“That was better than I ever could have imagined,” she whispers, her face once again tucked into my neck. I can only nod my agreement because words seem impossible right now. I know neither of us are in any hurry to get moving again but we're on borrowed time.
“Where will we go?” she asks when she eventually climbs off of me.
“Mission, Texas. I have a scheduled meeting there tomorrow,” I explain. “My sort-of boss wants to see me and he may have some ideas on what we can do to survive all of this shit.”
We both dress a lot slower than we did getting undressed, and it seems like she has no regrets about what just happened because she doesn't hesitate to press her face right back into my neck when I pick her up again.