Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Tit for tat?” But I’m already crossing my arms at the hem. I pull it up and over my head, then trail my hand between the valley of my breasts. “You’re up. Tat.”
He glides his shorts down his thick thighs, and I can’t pull my eyes away. The sum of his parts is just breathtaking. Warm flesh, the supple sloping of muscle, ridges and angles, and the thick length of his cock jutting between us. His head rolls back a little as he wraps it in his fist. Veins stand to attention in his forearm, the muscles of his abdominals flexing at his slow slide.
With a blink, I glance up. “I lied. I do think your cock is pretty.”
His deep chuckle doesn’t last as I touch my palm to his thigh and sweep my mouth over the silken head.
“Fuck.” His curse is thick and husky as he tightens his grip, rubbing the pearly bead at the tip across my lips. My tongue follows the path, and he makes a masculine sound of approval as I take him into my mouth.
“Feels so so good.” His words are husk over gravel as I lick and suck, savoring the taste and musk of him. Between my legs feels heavy as he gives himself over to me with a sweep of those dark lashes, his hands sliding into my hair. “That’s . . . fuck. Yes, like that.” His words are all aching need and want, his thighs trembling beneath my fingers. “You’re so good, darling. So beautiful sucking me.”
I swallow his words like the delicious compliments they are—savor them as I savor him, drunk on this power and his taste as he gasps.
“Wait, not like this.” His chest rises and falls as his hands cup my face. “I’m too wired to be gentle.” His thumb swipes over my bottom lip. “I want my mouth on you. Let me make you come.”
I close my eyes for a beat, unable to speak, the hammering between my legs suddenly a frenzy. He drops to his knees in front of me, lifting the weight of my breasts in his hands.
“You’re so fucking edible,” he whispers, licking my nipple. Sucking wetly, tautening and tugging, alternating with languid licks. “One day, you’re going to let me fuck these.”
I shut my ears to the implication of other days, shivering as the central air turns over, the air brushing across my wet, tingling skin. He begins to kiss his way down my body.
Oh hell, Granny panties, I think the moment before he presses his nose between my legs with a deep inhale. I almost levitate from the couch.
“One hundred percent,” he growls, hooking his fingers under the waistband. “Breakfast, lunch, and supper time. Elevenses,” he adds as he slips the black cotton down my legs. “Afternoon tea. Midnight snack. A whole-day fucking buffet, because you make a glutton out of me.”
His low rasps of appreciation make little sense, but maybe it’s infectious, this madness, as I writhe under him.
I whimper as he blows a cooling breath over the ribbon of flesh between my legs. Cry out, my breath hitting the air in tight gasps as the point of his tongue slides over my clit. My eyes tighten as I undulate against him, seeking to deepen the contact from this torturous tease.
“You’re so slick, Eve.” His tongue circles slowly. Skims a filthy flick. “So shiny and pink. I could swallow you fucking whole.”
“Please!” Spasms begin to rack my body, sparks of starlight flickering behind my eyelids. “Oh, God, please!”
“I love to hear you beg. I love you fucking wild. Come for me, Eve. Give it to me.”
Heat courses through my veins, the riot inside me building to a crescendo. Waves of pleasure roll through me, bursting from my toes and my fingertips. But waves are supposed to fade, not be endless.
“Too much,” I whimper, pushing at his head. He doesn’t budge or let up, grasping my hands in his. Something inside me snaps, the threads of this orgasm tied so tightly to the previous. I cry out, my mind and body at war. My hips tip, my thighs closing around his head, “No, Oliver. I can’t.”
“Yes,” he purrs. “For me.”
The sounds of our pleasure fill the room; licking and sucking, filthy whispered encouragements. Whimpers of utter pleasure. And something else. Something obvious but out of sight. Oliver’s hand working his cock as he gets me there.
I close my eyes, imagining the sight. Veins standing to attention in his forearm, the muscles of his abdomen taut as his hand slides from root to crown.
I sound like I might be running, my breaths tight and my moans unrestrained. My body suddenly bows as though lashed by an electric line. Sparks flood outward as I peak with a startled cry, arching from the couch. Oliver moves with me, determined to drain every ounce of my pleasure.