Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Ramsey?”
“Hmm?” I say, my mouth still holding the tip of his cock.
“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to lose it. I’m going to come.”
I stop, letting his cock fall from my lips with an audible pop. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Isn’t that the point?”
“Do you want me to come down your throat? I’m just warning you.”
“Yes. That. Let’s do that.”
He huffs out a laugh before his face grows serious. “You’re a gift, Ramsey. A precious gift and a light that makes my world brighter.”
I blink back tears. “I’m already a sure thing,” I tease. Something I could have never seen myself doing until Deacon came into my life.
“You’re everything.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I’m falling in love with him, but I don’t want it to be like that. Not when we’re in the middle of being intimate. I want him to know it’s coming from my heart and that it’s not the orgasm talking. Instead, I turn back to the task at hand. I stroke him a few times before taking him into my mouth. I can’t take him all, but I give it my best try.
His hand lands on the back of my head, but he doesn’t apply pressure. He gathers my hair into what feels like his fist and lets me do whatever I want.
“Jesus, Ramsey. So hot.”
His words fuel me to bob my head fast, stroke my hand faster. Another deep moan fills the room, and it’s a heady feeling to know that I’m giving him this kind of pleasure.
“Babe, I’m close. You have to stop.” His hand doesn’t release my hair as the other taps on my shoulder. “Fuck, Ramsey, I’m going to come.” He sounds pained, but I know that’s not the case.
I don’t stop.
I want this.
I want to give this to him. I want to taste him as he tasted me. I increase my efforts, my jaw starting to ache, but I keep going, craving his release just as much as I craved my own.
“Fuck!” he roars as he shoots his hot, salty release down my throat. I swallow, not loving the taste but also not hating it. When he relaxes, I let him fall from my mouth and move up to rest my head on his chest.
We both stay in each other’s arms, not saying a word. For me, I’m still processing this night. Deacon coming to my work, bringing dinner, and then us ending up at his place, naked and tangled in his sheets.
I shiver, and he pulls me closer. “Come on. Let’s take a quick shower, and we can go to bed.”
“Together?”
“Unless you don’t want that.”
“No. I do. I’ve just never done that before.” I lift my head to let him see my eyes.
“He was an asshole. If I ever run into him…” His voice trails off.
“If you ever run into him, nothing. He’s not worth your breath or your fists.”
“What makes you think my fists would get involved?”
“The look on your face. Besides, he can’t hurt me anymore. My father and Robert, they no longer control me or my life. I’m doing just fine on my own.”
“You’re not alone.”
My heart feels as if it could burst at his words. I don’t reply, but I squeeze him tight, and he does the same thing in return.
“Come on. Let’s shower.” He climbs out of bed and offers me his hand. At the gesture, I realize that I would follow him anywhere.
Deacon sets out a couple of towels for us and starts the water. He waits until the temperature is right before climbing in and holding his hand out for me to join him. Placing my palm in his is an easy decision.
“As bad as I want to explore your soapy, sexy body, I’m going to stay over here.” He points to the second showerhead. “While you do your thing over there. I know you’re exhausted, and you need your rest.”
“Is that a challenge?” I tease.
“No. Not with you, little minx.” He flashes me a grin. “Get clean before I say fuck it and dirty you up again. We’re both exhausted.”
I do as he says and stay on my side of the walk-in shower, but my eyes still linger. He’s toned in all the right places, and his cock, well, it’s hard for me to process the fact that it was just in my mouth not long ago.
“You good?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“I’m good.”
He nods and turns off the water. Stepping out, he grabs a towel and wraps it around me before doing the same for himself. He then hands me another. “For your hair,” he says.
“You take good care of me,” I tell him. My heart feels like a big warm puddle of goo, and it’s not the orgasm. It’s the care that he shows me each and every day.