Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
When I looked back at Kent he had something in his hands, wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to me and I opened it. Inside was a framed picture from our wedding day. I looked up at Kent confused, and he was taking down the hydrangeas picture. “Go on,” he said to me. “Hang it up. I know you’re the one with the eye for design, but I think a couple needs at least one picture of themselves in their home.”
Their home?
Kent bought me a house. He bought us a house, and he and my dad made an elaborate plan to surprise me. And I was shocked. And elated. Even though I’d picked out every single piece of furniture in the house, I spent hours there that day, looking over every detail again and standing at the back deck, looking out over the view of the ocean. I couldn’t believe it was ours! And of course I went to one of the bedrooms and started planning the nursery for our little girl.
Today the nursery is complete, and in just a few weeks we’ll have the finishing touch on this perfect picture. But she can’t get here soon enough. I let out a groan as I feel her kicking me in my ribs. Kent laughs at my side, so I poke him in the ribs and then throw myself down into the bed again and shut my eyes. He takes my mug from me, right before I spill coffee everywhere, and puts my foot in his lap and starts rubbing.
“Have I told you lately that pregnancy looks beautiful on you?” he asks. I don’t answer because I’m lost in the bliss of what his fingers are doing to my foot. This man knows my body from head to toe.
“It never hurts to hear it again,” I say, opening one eye, catching him looking at me with lust in his eyes. It’s impossible to me that he still finds me sexy. When I’m not out of the house, I practically live in this roomy white linen nightgown. I feel like I’m as big as a whale, and my breasts are so huge it’s almost comical. Yet Kent’s desire for me hasn’t changed. If anything it’s just grown stronger.
He rubs his thumb up and down the arch of my foot, and it feels so good. “Mmmm,” I exhale. I feel Kent’s dick stir under my foot, so I make the noise again. “Mmmm, Kent, that feels so good.” I know what I’m doing, and I can see it’s having the desired effect. Kent’s lips are parted as he watches me, his tongue darts out and licks his upper lip, and his hand is now rubbing my ankle.
“You deserve it, Perri,” he says, a huskiness in his voice now. “And you know it’s hard for me to keep my hands off you.”
His hands are moving higher now, massaging my calves, finding knots there I didn’t even know I had. His fingers tickle over my kneecaps, and then he lays both hands flat on my thighs, rubbing hard, long strokes over my tired muscles, waking up every nerve along the way. He lies down beside me, propping himself up on his elbow, and keeps rubbing me with one hand. He reaches down and grabs the hem of my nightgown and lifts it up until my slit is exposed.
He leans in to kiss me, and I taste coffee and mint on his tongue. His kiss is gentle at first, but I reach down and grab the bulge growing in his pants and he moans into my mouth, deepening the kiss until his fingers are tangled in my hair. When we finally come up for air, his hand is at my breast, tugging my nightgown down to give him access to my nipple. He takes it in his mouth and sucks. They’re so sensitive I feel like he ignites a hot wire from my tits straight to my pinkness. I’m instantly wet. He plays with me, licking one nipple and then the other, gently taking them between his teeth and tugging. I feel him getting harder under my hand, and rub over his pants, encouraging him on.
His hand traces over the growing swell of my belly and then rests right above my entrance. I try to scoot closer to him, to wiggle my body to force his hand lower, but my movement is limited these days.
“Touch me, Kent,” I whisper. And when he glides two fingers up and down my lips, I beg, “Please.”
Finally, he dips a finger inside me, just to the first knuckle, and I bear down, seeking more. He pumps his fingertip inside me, teasing me, knowing that it’s not enough, it won’t be enough, and he whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want.”