Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
If you know what I mean.
“What’s that look for?” He teased, catching my eyes as I checked him out.
“You look good enough to eat,” I mustered up the courage to say. I still felt shy around him. Not unlike that awkward kid I’d once been with the major case of hero worship. He raised his eyebrows.
“Eat? Are you turning into a vampire, my sweet?”
“No,” I said with a laugh, shaking my head. “I think… pregnancy makes me kind of…”
“Horny?” He asked hopefully.
“Yes,” I said with a blush. “Well, frisky at least. Is that weird?”
“It’s awesome,” he said eagerly. “Best symptom ever!”
I giggled as he came around the island. He pushed my thighs apart and growled as he sunk his hips between them. He kissed me deeply, tugging my lip out as he pulled back.
He licked his lips lasciviously, looking down at me.
“Now I’m hungry.”
“You are?”
“Yes, baby girl. Lay back.”
I giggled as he lifted me up, then guided me to lay back on the counter. He went about getting my clothes off, or at least, out of the way. My blouse was opened. My jeans removed. He lifted my bra up without bothering to try and open it. I had to admit, my maternity bra was a bit of a medieval torture device and a bitch to open.
I felt cool air as my panties seemed to magically disappear. My husband was like a big time fancy Las Vega illusionist when it came to my underthings. A pantie magician.
Suddenly he was kissing my thighs, soft teasing kisses that made me tingle with anticipation. My nipples were already hard when he reached up to play with them. I gasped in pleasure as his lips finally met my most sensitive parts.
He kissed my pussy the way he would kiss my mouth. Slowly at first, then with his tongue, then wildly, aggressively, with hunger for more. Always for more.
I arched against the cool white and gray veined marble of the countertop, my fingers in his silky, gorgeous, long hair. The hair I had dreamed about for nearly a decade, first as a starry eyed child, then as a young woman who was afraid to ask for what she wanted. Who didn’t even dare to dream that a man like him would ever want her. Could ever want her.
But he had.
All that time, I’d been convinced I never stood a chance with a dream boat like Nick. He was pretty much a Greek God. Handsome beyond all reckoning but also unutterably cool. Kind to animals and little girls. Hell, I’d seen him carry an old lady’s groceries to her car.
The man was swoon worthy, to an extreme.
And that didn’t even start to cover the things I learned after we were a couple. How protective he was. How loving. And the unspeakably dirty things he did to me in the bedroom department.
But somehow, even at his filthiest, my husband was also tender.
Yeah. I’d pretty much hit the jackpot.
All these thoughts flew through my head as my back arched up and a wave of pleasure so intense it made my toes curl swept over me.
“Nick!” I called out breathlessly. “Oh, oh, oh!”
He didn’t stop kissing and loving on me until I was a quivering pile of goo.
“Very nice, wife,” he said, licking his lips as he stared down at me. “Now it is time for bed.”
“Hmmmm?” I asked as he lifted me and carried me towards our bedroom. “But I want…”
“You are going to have to wait for that, little girl,” he teased me as he undressed me and slipped a nightie over my head. He tucked me in and then brought me a water and a ginger ale. I watched as he put a small plate of saltines on the bedside table beside the drinks. I smiled sleepily.
“You are the best.”
“I think you already took that role. I can be second best,” he said before pressing a kiss to my forehead. I wanted to argue with him about his amazingness but my eyelids were too heavy. Nick knew it, too. He chuckled as he turned off the light.
“I’ll be in soon. See you in the morning.”
And then I was out like a lamp.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Drake
“Ow, my fucking head,” I groaned, rolling over on the couch. I glared at the light coming in through the window to my apartment. It was too bright. I wanted to turn it off.
It’s the fucking sun, you moron. You can’t turn off the sun.
Except I had. I had freaked out, punched a tree, and chased away my Sunshine. She was scared of me. It made me sick to my stomach to think about it.
I settled for swiping the curtains closed so hard I heard something rip.
Like I gave a shit. I didn’t care about anything. My Sunshine was not talking to me.
What was the use in doing anything when my sweet girl was giving me the cold shoulder?