Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 55(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
“You’re so good at that, baby, but this first time I want to fill you with my seed,” he growls, and I shudder. Standing, I move backward toward the bed and drop on it seconds before he lifts my legs into the air and guides himself into me. Not slowly. Not Josh. He plows right past my cherry.
“No fucking way,” he says, pausing. He looks down at me, and I smile up at him. Sure, it hurt, but who cares? Who can care when I know what’s going to happen next.
“Sorry, I didn’t think to say anything. You can move,” I assure him.
“Just a second,” he says. His breathing is harsh and more than a little labored.
“Why? I’m fine.”
“You may be, baby, but I’m not. I am having a profound moment over here.”
“Profound how?” I ask, confused.
“It’s a profound moment in man’s life when he claims his woman.”
“Claims?”
“If you think I will ever let you do this with another man, you’ve got another thing coming, Tatum. You’re mine now. This pussy is mine.”
Why the fuck is that so hot? It should piss me off. It should make me want to push him off of me, but instead, I put my legs down and then wrap them around his waist tightly. Who lets a man go that says something like that?
“It’s a profound moment when a girl gets claimed. Now finish claiming me. Make me yours always.”
“Done,” he says, leaning down to kiss me before moving inside of me. Over and over, in and out, he thrusts. His pelvis hits my clit each time, driving me closer and closer to the edge.
I don't know how long we do this, but when his mouth wraps around my left nipple, and he bites down, I lose it. My eyes pop open, and for a split second, I see things hovering above us, like ghosts, but not. I brush it off as a trick of the light, but I’ll never forget it. I come hard, screaming his name. I’m coming harder than before, harder than when I’ve rubbed my clit all alone in my bed. Nothing can ever feel this good.
He thrusts a few more times before I feel him come inside of me, then he collapses on top of me. His head rests on my chest; I wrap my arms around him.
“Wow. Is it always like that?”
“No. Never has it been that way. It was soul-defining.”
“Soul-defining,” I repeat. That makes so much sense to me.
When his stomach growls a little while later, I laugh. He climbs off of me and hands me a Maple Leafs t-shirt from his dresser drawer. I pull it on, and it’s like a freaking dress on me. He pulls on some gray sweatpants, and I giggle.
“What?” he asks as he leads me back to the kitchen, where dinner smells amazing.
“I finally get all the hoopla about gray sweatpants.”
“Hoopla?” he asks, pulling the glass pan out of the oven. Oh, my God. I know he said chicken pot pie earlier, but I didn’t think it would like that. My favorite.
“Yeah. It clearly defines your cock. Women go wild for gray sweatpants,” I reply.
He looks down and then back up at me.
“I’ll never wear these in public again,” he says, shaking his head and chuckling.
“That’s probably a good idea. We wouldn’t want a riot on our hands.”
“Probably not,” he agrees.
“Chicken pot pie is my favorite food.”
“I know.”
“You know? How do you know?”
“I might have stalked you on Facebook as soon as you left my office,” he says unashamed of the fact.
“I see. Did you learn anything else about me?”
“A little bit, but I am looking forward to learning all about you straight from the source.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I say, helping him carry dishes over to the table.
After the meal, I don’t go home. Is it possible to fall in love in just one day? Even if it’s not supposed to happen, I definitely just did.
Chapter Seven
Joshua
A week with her in my arms has been long enough to know that I am in love with her. Who the hell am I kidding? I knew the first night. The first second after she knocked on my office door. Being with her is something that I can only describe as magical. Nothing could ever compare to her. She makes me happy. Truly happy.
When I am with her, I don’t feel alone. As an only child herself with parents who are no longer with us as well, I feel like we were made for each other. It’s Sunday, about a week after we met. We are sitting in the little breakfast nook in my kitchen. She’s wearing pearls and my Raptors t-shirt. She’s such a crazy combination of class and sass. While it’s not a particularly romantic moment, she’s reading something on her phone, and I’m pretending to read the paper, I have this overwhelming urge to tell her how I feel. Right now, just like this, with the sun hitting the side of her face. It looks like she’s wearing a halo—an angel who fell to Earth just for me.