Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Okay.” She nods. “I’ll calm down. It’s just been a long time.”
I cup her face, holding her so her eyes look straight into mine. “I don’t want you to calm down. I want you to feel everything as loud as you want, to take what you need, to live and laugh like you used to. Poppy, God, you’re so fucking fantastic.” I kiss her so wholly that my soul feels the embrace.
There’s no patience in the reunion. Our lips part, our tongues twisting together before I have a chance to come to my senses. We’re doing what feels good, what feels right. Is this my second chance?
While her nipples press to my chest, the tips rubbing over the tattoo we share—please let it still be there—I slide one hand around the small of her back and take command of one of her tits with the other. I squeeze the handful and rub the peak with my thumb before flicking it.
A moan escapes as she grinds on top of me, her head dipping back and her lips wide open. Lowering my hand, I get a good grip of her ass, though that mouth is always a delicious distraction. Encouraging every grind and slide over my length, I kiss her neck and shoulder, letting her fuck me through my shorts. “It’s been so long, babe,” I groan, pressing my mouth to her skin just to taste it. “For me too.”
“Touch me, Laird,” she murmurs against my ear and then nibbles my lobe. Leveraging my shoulders, she lifts and lowers, rubbing herself against my hard dick. “Please.”
I want to come so hard inside her, but if she keeps this up, I’m not making it out of the hot tub. Fuck. Shifting, I slide my hand around her hip, pushing my thoughts away from my own pleasure to focus on hers. I lean back to hook her attention onto me. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Her panting breaths come steady, but her eyes are wild with the possibility. Her thighs are so smooth, the water making the tips of my fingers glide right where I want them. She made me hide my eyes while she slipped into the spa, so I didn’t get a good look at her thong. Cotton barely covers her, but I run my knuckle along the crease of her leg and over the wet softness of one of her lower lips.
She kisses me once and then again as I toy with her, teasing until she grinds again. Moaning into my mouth, I swallow it down, then kiss her right back. My fingers nudge and then find purchase against her clit.
“Ohh,” she says, dropping her head as she gets lost in the intimacy, the ecstasy of being together. I remember how to make her come. I remember the face she makes when she falls apart. I remember all of it, but I need to see her do it again for me.
I slip the tip of my finger inside her tightness, circling her sweet clit with another. I can’t ignore the ache that I feel from wanting my own happy ending. Not yet.
She rides up and sinks down, engulfing my finger and fucking me like I want her to. “Do you like that? Does that feel good?”
“So good.” She can’t keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds, the pleasure taking over every part of her soul to claim it as its own.
She’s too close to go into the house, to lay her down on the island and eat her out. So I increase the pressure, diving my finger deep into where I want my dick and wanting to nip at her bud. But every time she thrusts down, I get closer to getting off with her.
When her eyes latch onto mine, she cries, “Oh my God. Oh God. Yes. Yes.” Her breath chokes in her throat as her head dips to my shoulder. Her body trembles on top of me, and then she moans, “Ahhh.”
My dick jerks from the moans in my ears as she rides me through her tremors . . . “Ah, fuck.” My body sends me into the deep end, my mind traveling through the rush of an orgasm. I pump and thrust and release just as she wraps her arms around me.
We both are too caught up to breathe normally. With her holding me like she loves me, I wrap my arms around her, never wanting this to end. When my heart returns to its regular beat, I turn to kiss her neck, behind her earlobe, and under her jaw. The corner of her mouth is especially delectable, but it’s when I reach her ear that I whisper, “I’m definitely writing you up for that.”
Her laughter fills the freezing night air, and she tilts back, her breasts bare before me and an expression I remember like it was yesterday set on her face—love in the aftermath.