Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
He steps away from me and rips away his clothes. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Since I’m not exactly brimming over with patience myself, I unzip my jumpsuit and let it slide down my body, then tug off my bra and undies.
Dillon watches me intently. His sapphire eyes move over my curves, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. “Lie on the bed.” His voice wraps around me, causing my pulse to skyrocket. I usually hate to have someone ordering me around, but it’s different with Dillon. My girly bits wake up and beg when he starts telling me what to do.
I sit on the edge of the bed and lie back to rest on my elbows to watch as Dillon strokes his cock. When he steps next to the bed, I reach out to push his hand out of the way and replace it with my own.
As I run my thumb around the tip, Dillon shivers and presses his cock against my hand. “Your touch drives me wild.”
I smile up at him and continue stroking until he growls, “I need you.”
He leans over to close his lips around one of my nipples, and my back arches off of the bed as a mixture of pleasure and discomfort shoots through my body. “I need you, too. Now, stop messing around and get to it.”
I gasp when he pulls away to look down at me with worried eyes. “Is it safe?” He swallows and adds, “I want to make sure we aren’t going to hurt the baby.”
“The baby will be fine,” I reassure him. “According to all four pregnancy books I bought.”
“Four?” He winks and helps me up to lie on the pillows. “I thought you bought one book.”
“I’m a fast reader.” I shrug. “So, I bought four to make sure I didn’t run out of reading material on my flight.”
“I want to read them,” he tells me before kissing his way down my body.
“Okay,” I manage before my mind completely shuts down. He sucks on each of my nipples while sliding his fingers deep into my core. As he pumps his fingers, I reach down and stroke his rock-hard cock.
I’m on the verge of climaxing when he pulls his hand away. “Don’t stop.” I don’t care that I’m whining.
“I’m not stopping, spitfire,” he promises before lining his cock up with my opening. “I’m changing gears.”
“Change away,” I breathe out as he thrusts deep into my pussy. The rest of my words are lost in his kiss. As his hips pick up speed, he slides his arm under my left leg and raises it up over his shoulder. Thank God for all those yoga sessions Jenna dragged me to. The new position allows him to slide even deeper. I dig my nails into his shoulders and hold on while he makes love to me.
Dillon is relentless. He refuses to let go until he’s given me three orgasms. When I come the third time, I dig my nails into his powerful butt cheeks and drag his rear end along with me.
“I love you,” he breathes against the side of my neck, and another tiny climax rolls through me.
I have just enough strength left to breathe out, “I love you, too,” as he spins us over and pulls my limp body against his.
Between the emotionally charged day and pregnancy hormones, I’m totally exhausted. Within a few moments, I feel sleep dragging me under and snuggle closer to the love of my life.
A strand of her hair tickles my nose, and I smile as I wake up and find my spitfire curled up next to me with her right arm thrown over my chest and her right thigh resting across my lower abdomen. As her silky skin rubs against my cock, the fucker slowly grows hard. After the long workout last night, I’m surprised the fucker has anything left.
If Piper wakes up feeling like shit, it’s all my fault, so I slip out of bed and head to find the box of crackers and Sprite she put out last night.
I hear a noise behind me and turn to watch my spitfire race for the bathroom. Fuck. I’m too late to help. Feeling useless, I stand outside the door while she pukes her guts up. To hell with this. I don’t care if I’m invading her privacy; that’s my woman carrying my child. I storm into the bathroom and find a washcloth. I wet it with warm water and walk over to kneel next to my girl. “Can I do anything for you?” I ask and lift her tangled hair off her neck. While lightly running the wet cloth around the back of her neck and over her forehead, I gently rub her back.
“Tell your child to take it easy on me,” she grumbles and lies back against me. “I bought a book online that said this shouldn’t last more than a few weeks. God, I hope it’s right.”