Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
“Are you on the pill?” My scent lingers on his fingers, and as he tips my chin, bringing my gaze up to his, I shake my head. “This is madness.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t move.
“Welcome to my world because this is how you make me feel.” My words are soft and a little taunting as I slide my heels and my hands around him. “Unhinged.”
“Angel, there’s no going back after this.”
“So fuck me, Carson. Make me yours right now.”
His hips rock forward. The look on his face is one I’ll remember forever, and I could listen to the sound he makes on a loop.
“Oh, yes!” I hold him there, the beginning of my orgasm fluttering around him as he breathes heavily into my neck. A moment later, he pulls back and thrusts slowly back in.
“Look at how we fit,” he rasps. “You were made for me, sweet girl.” His hands anchored to my hips, he begins to punctuate his thrusts with words of desire and words of love as he builds a rhythm with each snap of his hips.
I’m lost to the feel of him, the possession in his hold, and the words falling almost incoherently from his lips. You’re mine. I’m never letting go. This is forever. I swallow the words down, storing them in my heart as my insides spiral and pulse harder than ever before.
“That’s . . . that’s it,” he rasps.
I cry out. I plead. I come apart. And when the world returns, I know only Carson’s arms, his hands on my face, and his lips whispering the promises of lifetimes. A moment later, his movements turn erratic, and then I feel the loss of him as he pulls back. I look down to where he holds himself in his hand the second before he begins to lash my lacy stocking tops with the ropes of his climax.
29
Carson
I wake bathed in sunshine and the possibilities of the day . . . and with a small, dark-headed child staring at me from the end of Fee’s bed.
“Good morning, princess.” I push myself up against the pillows, brushing away the hair that’s fallen into my eyes.
“Why are you sleeping in Mummy’s bed?” She suddenly sounds very English and has the kind of intonation that sounds very much like, “Off with his head!” which is a worry. I’m very fond of both of my heads, and I wouldn’t like to part with either.
“Why am I sleeping in Mommy’s bed?” I repeat, wondering what the G-rating answer for this question would be. My gaze slides to her mother lying on her back, her arms spread wide because the woman is a fucking bed hog. Her blond hair covers her face like a golden veil, and it seems that at some point during the night, she’s slipped on a tank top. As I covertly lift the corner of the cover, I realise that’s all she’s wearing. Which is one more item of clothing than me.
This could be problematic.
“Yes, that’s what I asked. There are lots of bedrooms in this ’partment, so why are you in this bed?” She pokes her forefinger into the mattress. “You have your own bed, and it’s not this one.”
“Well, it’s like I told you. I love your mommy.” The words seem to spring from my mouth without any thought. Yeah, I’d told Lulu, but I’d yet to say it to her mother. Well, that’s not strictly true. I’d said it last night multiple times. Pressed the words against multiple parts of her body. Various declarations of love and numerous orgasms. It was quite honestly the best night of my life, even if Fee maintained “declarations of love don’t count when you’re inside me”.
Shows what she knows.
“You love her!” Lulu repeats with enough volume to wake Fee, whose body jerks against the pillow before falling straight back.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” I smile over at her. Was waking a shock, or was it my words of love.
“Lu?” she croaks sleepily.
“Yep, we have a little company.” A little company with a big personality.
Fee sits up with the speed of a jack-in-the-box. “But I set my alarm.”
“Apparently, not early enough.”
“I turned it off,” Lu announces, exceedingly pleased with her bad little self. “When my eyes seed Uncle Carson in your bed. He said he loves you.”
“Yep, what she said.” I point a finger gun Lulu’s way, who giggles loudly and begins to bounce on the bed.
“Does that mean I get a puppy?”
“If you want one,” I answer.
At the same time, her mother yells, “No!”
“But does it mean you’ll be my daddy now?”
Was the puppy/dad combo some kind of kiddie-level reverse psychology?
“Lu, that’s not how—”
“No, that’s a fair question,” I say, patting Fee’s thigh over the covers. She’s discomfited. And a little disconcerted. I get it. But I also kind of feel like this has been a long time in coming.