Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
All the breath expels from my chest at the realization.
“Lower,” I demand. “Get down here.”
She immediately lowers herself and I wrap my arms around her back, securing her to me because even though I’m inside her, it’s not close enough. Never close enough.
I slow my upstrokes and tangle my other hand in her hair, but only so I can urge her head just the slightest bit back so that her eyes are on mine.
And for the first time in my whole life, silently, I make love.
I never break contact with her eyes as I stroke in and out. She grinds down and rolls her hips in time with each of my thrusts until we’re so in sync, I can’t tell where I end and she begins.
When her eyes fall closed as her pleasure ramps higher, I shake my head and demand in a soft whisper, “eyes.”
Seconds later, tears film her eyes, but not because I’m hurting her. It’s because of this beautiful moment we’re creating together.
“That’s right. Give it to me,” I say. “Give it all over to me.”
And she does.
Her hands ball in the sheets beside my head and her breasts heave against my chest as her face scrunches in pleasure. But she looks at me the entire time, and the spasm that rocks through her body as her orgasm begins is the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Her pussy squeezes around me and she looks lost. So fucking lost in her pleasure, lost in me, lost in her wanting finally being satisfied.
I thrust up deep and I cum too, so deep inside her, so deep.
And even though I’ve loved watching her cum and sharing it, I can’t stand another second without her mouth. I grab the back of her head and drag her mouth down to mine.
I kiss her hard, tasting her sweet mouth as I pull out and push in again, another groan tearing its way out of me as she squeezes the last of my cum from me. She’s still shuddering, still riding her high and I roll my groin against her just where she needs it.
I drink in her gasps and breathy whines of pleasure. Her arms fly around my back as she pulls me even closer to her.
“Dylan,” she cries as her body continues to shudder as she swivels and rolls her hips on my still hard rod. “Oh.”
Fuck. She has to be riding a second orgasm at this point and it’s so fucking hot.
“Ohhhhh,” she squeals, back arched, mouth open, holding the position for three seconds, five, shit, I keep grinding upwards, kissing her neck, wanting to give it to her, every ounce of pleasure, until finally she collapses on top of me, obviously spent.
Her forehead is dotted with perspiration and her cheeks are rosy and she’s the most glorious fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I kiss her rose-red lips, swollen from my kisses.
And I whisper the only truth it feels like I’ve ever known: “I love you.”
Sixteen
MIRANDA
I didn’t tell Dylan I loved him back last night.
How could I when I’m keeping so many secrets from him?
And of course, him being him, he didn’t press me or even look upset when I didn’t say it back. He just kissed me and held me tight all night, then woke up early and cooked me breakfast in bed.
I push my chair away from my desk and look out the window. My office isn’t huge but I have a good view. I stand up and stretch my legs as I look out on the city.
I’m sore and my eyes close in shame remembering exactly why. What was I thinking going to Dylan’s office like that last night?
Was I trying to test him? To see if he was like his brother?
I rub my temples.
Dylan’s nothing like Darren. I knew it the second he touched me in the alley. I realized how stupid I was to have ever second-guessed him so then I decided to just be with him, to live out the fantasy like we always did.
But then he ordered me on my knees. Just like his brother had earlier that day.
It was too much, too soon.
Not that Dylan could have known. Not that I had any business being there, doing anything like that when I was still so emotionally fucked up from the afternoon.
And God, the horror on Dylan’s face when he thought he’d hurt me.
I’ve never hated myself more than I did in that moment.
That I could make him think that for a second—
I just wanted to run away. To break up with him because I’m toxic. Couldn’t he see that? The fact that I sought him out at all after what happened with Darren is so fucked up.
And if he ever finds out my connection to Bryce, it will only hurt him. I should never have sought him out in the first place.