Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“More.” My hand fists his dark silky hair, hips leveraging upwards to make Trace work more than my clit, loving when he slides his tongue inside me, using it like he would his thick shaft. Clearly, my commands aren’t working because he’s staying just like he is, sucking on my clit with deep pulls until he’s damn good and ready to do what he wants when he wants.
“Please, Trace, please,” I plead with him. My stomach tightens, breathing becomes harder with each inhale, and I forget to exhale until I’m forced to let go, repeating it again and again. My eyes close, and I lose the vision of his head buried between my thighs, letting each sensation roll over my body. So close to tumbling over the edge, yet so far away. Trace must know me better than I do, as he pulls away from my clit, rasping his teeth over the sensitive bud as he uses his tongue to lick the whole of my center. “Trace!” I yell out loudly, louder than I should. I’m really hoping my elderly neighbors don’t have their hearing aids in; or they’ll surely call the cops, thinking Trace is killing me. Not that they’d be wrong; he is, with the most intense orgasm of my life.
“That’s it, Josie, give it to me, babe.” The vibrations only make my body shatter more fully after the earth-shattering way he worked my core. I know what he is doing. He’s trying to make me come again, one right after the other, and while I love that, I’d love him to come with me this time.
“No, no, no. Trace, please. I want your cock,” I grumble when he quite literally doesn’t come up for air, attempting to be displeased, but really, a girl can’t really complain when her man is giving her head, repeatedly, without having to be asked. I mean seriously, Trace is twice my age and keeps going like he’s running a triathlon. I’ll never be able to keep up with him at this pace.
“Yes, one more time, then I’ll give you my dick. I’ll fuck you hard and fast, then nice and slow.” He lifts his head from my center, lips and chin wet from eating me, making me want his mouth even more. Unfortunately, his phone rings at the same time. “Son of a bitch. Nobody calls this late at night unless it’s an emergency,” he grumbles, wiping his mouth off along the inside of my thighs, coating me with my cum.
“Shit, you didn’t even get off yet, and we’re interrupted yet again.” I sit up, watching as Trace stands from his place on the floor. His cock bobs up and down with each movement. I go to reach for him, but he’s already on the move, then turns back to me, giving me a whole different view. I’m not complaining.
“Hello,” Trace grunts into the phone, gruff in displeasure. Me too, man, me freaking too. It’s a one-sided conversation for me since he didn’t put it on speaker phone, reminding me of the time he did that. My legs close automatically, pressing together. He was deep inside me, ass up in the air, hands tight around my hips, thumbs pressing into the divots in my lower back while he was talking on the phone.
“Yeah, I’m at the house, though, and if you’re coming over to talk, Wes, it better be with a better attitude.” Oh, fuck, this is not good. The last time his son was over, shit went down, Wes went silent on Trace, and it was not a good time for anyone. You could feel the hurt Trace was and is still feeling. Hopefully, it won’t happen again, or I’ll be the one kicking Wes in the nuts. At least then he won’t be able to use them to hurt other women.
“Hold on, let me make sure Josie is okay with this.” He takes a breath before he turns around and covers the speaker, asking without really asking. I’m not exactly sure why he needs my seal of approval, but I nod all the same. I guess him getting off is going to have to wait. His cock is already deflating, and I’m silently mourning the fact that a perfectly good boner has gone to waste.
“Yeah, give me two minutes, and I’ll meet you in the garage.” Yep, our time has come to an end. Wes must already be here. Thankfully, he’s not using the key to the house, letting himself in and making himself at home. That would be even more awkward. Trace hangs up with Wes. “Fucking boy has impeccable timing, cock-blocking me.” He runs his hand through his hair. I’m unsure of what he’s thinking or feeling right now.
“We’ll make up for it later. Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to get a bead on where his head is at.