Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Baby,” I pant. “Gonna fucking come.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m the one whimpering at her loss.
I’m a half of a second away from reaching for her again, an animal that has no control, but then her mouth is on me, licking away her arousal, tasting what she left behind, lips and cheeks sucking and slurping. The sounds fill the air around us, but I can’t concentrate on that because I’m coming, detonating, and seeing stars. With an open mouth, she accepts rope after rope of cum as it slashes against her tongue, and the sight only fuels my orgasm, giving it the power to continue for what seems like eons. Stripes paint her pretty lips, and my balls, although empty, tighten more when her pretty pink tongue snakes out to swipe it away.
I wipe away what her tongue can’t reach, but she catches my hand, dipping my thumb into her mouth while her eyes bore into mine. I use it as a hook to drag her up my body, first kissing her mouth before licking inside. We’re the perfect combination on her tongue.
When her needy hips swivel against me, I do the only thing I can. I drag her further up my body and show her with my mouth what I can’t say with words.
Chapter 36
Whitney
“They hate each other,” I complain as I watch Simon’s tail swish on the floor.
Puff Daddy stares down at my cat from the curtain rod, so high up that his head brushes the ceiling.
“They’re just getting to know each other,” Wren assures me.
“Go away, demon spawn!” He’s so loud, I’m certain the neighbors can hear him.
Simon’s only response is a guttural growl from deep in his throat.
“Plus, Puff is a complete asshole. He tortures that damn cat. He deserves what he gets.”
“You say that now,” I turn in the circle of Wren’s arms and press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, “but I have the feeling you’ll be very upset if my cat eats your bird.”
“Simon doesn’t have a chance at catching him. He’s too fat.”
“Hardly fat,” I argue, pulling back so he can see the disdain on my face.
“Obese. Isn’t that the word the lady at the pet hotel used?”
I scoff. “Neutered cats are fat. It’s science.”
“I can agree with that.” He smiles down at me, not allowing me to pull fully away from him. Honestly, I don’t want to go anywhere. In his arms is the only place I want to be.
“Are you sore?”
“No,” I whisper into his chest.
“I rode you pretty hard this morning.”
God, did he. For a second, I thought he was going to shove me all the way through the mattress.
“I survived.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Your handprint stayed on my ass for over an hour,” I remind him.
“You came before I gave you permission. You know the rules.”
We’ve lined out many more things since we returned from California yesterday, going over a detailed list of kinks we found online, some I hadn’t even considered. We haven’t made any real plans about our future, but we decided that whatever it is, we want to do it together.
“I’m going to make lunch,” he says with his lips pressed to the top of my head.
I give a final squeeze and step back. As much as I’d like to take this conversation to the bedroom, I’m starving and he promised his nana’s favorite lasagna and garlic bread.
I busy myself with making the bed—because it’s so much fun to mess up again—while Wren works in the kitchen. Simon howls in the living room, while Puff screams obscenities at him.
Is this what bliss is like? It feels like it.
The doorbell chimes, which is weird because I didn’t hear the intercom announce anyone. That means that it’s someone who has access to this floor because without a keycard, no one can get up here.
I walk toward the front door, a smile on my face, telling the animals to calm down.
“Absolutely not,” I hear from the other side. “There’s no way to defend his actions. He stalked that poor girl for months. I’m not letting him off the hook this tim—”
I open the door, finding Deacon Black’s piercing blue eyes assessing mine. Anna, his gorgeous wife, tugs on his sleeve, trying to get his attention.
“Calm down,” she urges, but Deacon’s jaw ticks.
“Hello,” I squeak, my hands automatically going to the hem of Wren’s shirt.
I’ve had it on all morning, and although he admitted to not wearing button-downs often, it came in mighty handy this morning during a scene. Who knew naughty schoolgirl and filthy principal was a thing?
“Whitney. Lovely to see you again.”
I know his name because I attended his wedding, but I left before we were officially introduced. With what Wren has told me about getting the box and Deacon’s unhappiness about how he was handling the situation concerning me, it’s not a surprise the man knows who I am.