Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Slamming her hips into mine, she grasped the back of the daybed and fucked me hard and fast. An icy hot shiver raced down my spine, then another as I watched the dirty image of her ass, clad in torn latex, moving and wiggling on my dick. Her moans only added to the erotic nature of the view, and my balls drew up tight.
“Gonna cum,” I gasped.
“Wait,” she pleaded, “little more.”
Still riding me like a pro, she gasped as I reached around and began to strum her clit.
That was all it took, and I groaned in relief as she began to cum again.
Pinning her beneath me, I let go, my release tearing through my body. My balls actually hurt from how hard I was cumming. She kept squeezing and moaning, milking me with her pussy while I jerked against her. It was like I couldn’t get deep enough inside of her as I came.
When the last spurt left me, I let out a groan that had a slight edge of a whimper to it.
I was drained.
My balls were completely empty, and I felt fucking incredible.
“Marry me,” I said as we both lay there, shivering and panting.
“Wha-what?”
“Marry me.”
She pushed herself up on a shaky arm, her dark eyes searching mine. “Really?”
I sat up as well, then reached out and gently cupped the back of her neck, her damp hair tickling my skin. “I love you, so much.”
“But-but you’ve never even introduced me to your family.”
I stared at her, feeling like shit as her eyes teared up. “Oh, baby bear, that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I barely talk to my family anymore. After…after Gracie, I did some things. Things some people in my family didn’t agree with. I couldn’t face their self-righteous condemnation anymore, so I left. Cut myself off from everyone except my sister and a couple cousins. I talk to my mom and dad now and then, but not much, not if I can help it.”
“Mark,” Layla said as rubbed my arm. “I’m so sorry they’re assholes.”
“See, that’s the thing—they aren’t.” I sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I avoid them because seeing them hurts. I just use our fight as an excuse.”
I waited for her to judge me, to tell me I was a coward and a bad son, but my endlessly compassionate girl just nodded. “I can understand that, but I still think you should see them.”
Avoiding her empathetic gaze, I toyed with a strand of her hair, tucking it back behind her ear. “Maybe someday.”
“You want to go see them, don’t you?”
I wanted to deny it, to say I was fine, but honesty was a two-way street. If I expected Layla to be honest with me, I had to be truthful with her. Trust was a big thing with us, and I never wanted to lose hers.
“Do they want to see you?”
“My mom invites me home every time we talk, which isn’t often.”
“And your dad?”
“He asks me to come home for my mom’s sake.”
“So, he’s the one who didn’t like you getting revenge.”
“No. He didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand, how I could take anyone’s life. He’s lived his whole life peacefully, so he doesn’t get why I couldn’t do the same. Taking a life is a sin and all that bullshit.”
“What a dick,” Layla said, surprising me.
“What?”
“What a dick,” she repeated. “It’s real easy to judge someone when you’ve lived a pampered, spoiled life where you never had to make a life or death decision. How dare he scorn you for doing the right thing. You put down killers, rabid dogs responsible for the deaths of dozens of innocent people. Monsters like that keep on killing until someone stops them. You stopped them. And if he can’t see that, then he needs to take off his blinders and really look at the world around him, because it’s men like you that keep people like him safe.”
I stared at her, processing what she said, still surprised as shit because she didn’t side with my dad.
“You don’t think he’s right?”
“Did you hear a word I just said? If your dad had his way, people like Greg would be merrily raping their way through the world while the good guys sat back with their thumbs up their asses. No, Greg deserved to die. I only wish Mrs. Cordova had gotten to torture him first. I think I would have watched. Might have helped with my nightmares.” She huffed, staring out into the desert night as she plucked at her outfit. “Okay, I am like…simmering in this thing. Can you help me out of it? I got it on but reaching the zipper to get it off would require me to be a contortionist.”
She stood, presenting her sweet ass, still pink from my spanks, to my face.