Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Sorry, Isabelle, we heard the heartbeat, and there was only one. Maybe next time.” I wink for good measure.
“Who said anything about having more children? As far as I’m concerned, you can check into your own room. No one said you can stay with me.” Amelie’s pointer finger hits my chest. All I can do is laugh. She’s a mess. I’ve never seen this frazzled side of her; it’s fucking cute.
“I’m not leaving you. Wherever you are is where I’ll always be. And we both know you’ll never tell me no.” A flush hits her cheeks. Isa hums to herself, giving us this private moment, or semi-private since she knows I’ve been in her daughter’s bed every time I was in New Orleans.
“Whatever. I’m going back to work. All you two do is gang up on me,” she throws her attitude around. We both know I’ll be fucking it out of her later tonight. I dip my head, lips touching hers, my tongue lapping at her lower lip until she gives me that sweet little gasp I love so much. It’s the same one she makes as she comes hard on my cock. Now all I want to do is take her up the three flights of stairs, open her door, and take her against it.
“Boston.” I pull back. Taking her in the kitchen probably would be frowned upon. Doesn’t mean I’m not tempted.
“Get to work, then meet me upstairs.” Her lips are plump from our kiss, eyes sparkling with need and excitement.
“Okay.” Her breathless tone is doing nothing to calm my cock down, and when she spins around, showing me an ass I’m going to take, it only makes me that much harder.
NINETEEN
Amelie
I’m on my hands and knees, not a stitch of clothing between the two of us. True to Boston’s word, he met me upstairs, right on my heels. The door slamming open only to be slammed shut a moment later, my shirt for his, his shoes for mine, then we both worked on taking the rest of our clothes off one another. A rendering of fabric, ripping from its seams in our haste to get our hands on each other was all that mattered. My back was pressed against the wood door, cold to my overstimulated and hot body, Boston’s mouth working mine, taking me in a way that shows how much he needs me, his thick cock sliding between my heavily coated lips, allowing him to tease us in a way that had me ripping my mouth away from his, arching my back and lifting a leg to wrap around his waist.
Boston didn’t want me like that. No, the man was hell bent on having me where I am right now, ass perched in the air, his hands sliding along the slopes of my curves, and I know exactly why. He wants his cock inside my ass, and while I can’t say I’m opposed to it, he’s thick, long, and did I say thick? We’re still working our way up to that moment. In the meantime, his fingers, toys, and sometimes mouth are all that’s happening.
“Oh God, I thought you were deeper before,” I groan, fingers clenching the sheets beneath me. The orgasm I was chasing moments ago, before he tossed me in this position, returns at a full throttle. It doesn’t seem to take much for an orgasm to be thrown my way. Pregnancy hormones are lighting the fuse faster than you can blow it out. My insides turn to mush, making me annoyed with my body and myself. I wanted this feeling to last. My eyes shutter as he presses his thumb inside my ass, pussy squeezing tightly as I’m tossed into the deep end of the best feeling in the world. And through it all, Boston never falters. My core clenches around his thick and heavy cock at each powerful push of his hips. There’s no use in helping him either; he’s got me right where he wants me. I’d be a fool to resist. Being stuffed with his dick in my pussy, his thumb in my ass, it’s an onslaught of sensations, overwhelming me in the best possible way. I’m dying to feel each spurt of his cum paint my walls.
“Boston,” I groan into the pillow. What I’m asking for, I have no idea. All I know is I want more, and I want it to never freaking end.
“Fuck yeah, Amelie. Look at you, taking my cock, sucking my finger into that tight ass of yours. Soon, my cock will be right here,”—he wiggles his thumb—“and you’re going to take all of it, a vibrator in your pretty pussy, one tiny wall between where we’re both going to enjoy the sensation of each thrust.” He slides his thumb in deeper, past the first knuckle. Him talking during sex only amps up my orgasm. I don’t need a mirror. I can feel it, imagine it, his cock slick with my wetness, his thumb working in and out in tandem with his thrusts as his fingers grip the side of my ass hard enough that I’ll be wearing marks the next day.