Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
A shared breath whooshes from us both as she takes as much as she can.
“Fuck, Naz.” She grimaces.
I look between us, almost losing my mind at seeing myself halfway in and her body stretched around me.
“How much more?” she asks, breathless.
“You can do it,” I murmur, squeezing both cheeks of her ass and running my hands up her back. “I know you can take it all.”
“Just gimme a sec,” she pants, easing down another inch or so.
“Shit!” The word explodes from me as her tight pussy clamps around my dick, taking more of me. My mind spins and my abs clench as she moves the slightest bit, rocking her hips in tight undulations all while sliding down a little more until she’s spread over me, and when I look between us, I don’t see my dick at all. Her pussy has eaten me up, swallowed me whole. She lifts her chin, eyes alight with triumph and lust.
“I did it,” she gasps, rocking onto me.
“You’re so good.” I grunt into the wet curve of her neck. “So good. I knew you could do it, baby.”
I slump back into the shower wall, holding her hips as she rolls over me, the muscles of her thighs flexing as she rises and falls, her expression twisting as I screw up into her body. Her breasts bounce, and she throws her head back, bottom lip trapped between her teeth, drops of water spraying over her back and shoulders, droplets gliding down her belly to christen the place where our bodies interlock. I rub and pinch her clit, and she screams, her shoulders shaking with hoarse cries as our movements turn frenzied. Her muscles seize around me as she comes, burying her face into my neck, shaking with her release.
I stand, keeping her close, not allowing space between our bodies, and walk over to the shower wall. Pressing into her, pinning her there, I reach for her leg to anchor at my back. She’s listless, still coming down, her eyes rolling back and her mouth slack. I give her no time to recover, but surge inside her.
“Oh!” Her eyes go wide. “Naz.”
There’s a drum in my head, in my heart. It’s primitive, percussive, unrelenting, and it possesses me. I pound into her, pushing her body into a wet slide up the wall. Her legs slip on and off my ass while she tries to anchor herself.
“Is it too much?” I manage to clear my head long enough to ask, unable to even let up while I wait for her answer. I only pray that if she says it’s too much, I can pull back.
She digs her nails into my neck, jerks my head toward her until her lips are at my ear.
“Harder.” Her breath is hot at my throat as she locks her ankles at the base of my spine. “I wanna have trouble sitting down. Can you do that for me, Naz?”
“Jesus, Kira.” I grunt, planting my feet wider, gripping her thigh so tightly I’m afraid it will bruise. “You shouldn’t have said that.”
I’m like a berserker who’s lost the thread of time and reason, lost to a fever, to madness. Whatever beast this woman awakened in me roars out of his cage and fucks her into that wall, heedless of anything but the legs splayed and the tight opening dripping for him. He takes and takes and takes and takes. He takes until he’s satisfied. He takes until she is, too.
Chapter Fifteen
Takira
I did ask for this.
I told Naz I wanted to have trouble sitting down, and for days I’ve been walking like I had a stick up my ass because I basically have. More like a tree trunk. I’m still getting used to him, but damn if it’s not the best sex of my life. I would not change one thing, one moment, but I’m just starting to walk with no twinges of discomfort.
He’s abandoned his cabin completely and has spent every night over the last week with me. Why front? He brought me here, and we can’t get enough of each other. I’m glad we’re on this yacht with a bunch of couples who also can’t get enough of each other because we’d be pretty obnoxious otherwise.
He’s rich as hell and could shower me with material things. And he does. At every port, I find some keepsake from the local shops he’s left for me in the room—an ankle bracelet, clips for my hair, diamond earrings. There has been no shortage of gifts, but the real gift has been his attention. The way he cares. The man bathes me. He wraps my hair up at night. He washes my face. I don’t know what this is, but I feel spoiled. Doted on. Adored. At first I was like…is this cringe? Is it weird? But then I recalled all those times when I didn’t feel valued in a relationship. All those times a guy disrespected me by looking at other women all night. All those times I didn’t feel this almost embarrassing amount of single-minded focus from a man who’s determined I’ll know how much he enjoys me. How much he likes me. Cherishes me, even. He’s constantly pulling me onto his lap. We sneak away from the group anytime the mood strikes us. Last night at dinner, he fed me from his plate.