Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
But all ideas of sweet flew out of my mind as he found his way back to his path down the center of my stomach, his hand reaching downward to start tugging my pants down my thighs, over my knees, then down off my legs, leaving me in nothing but a pair of black and white lace panties before him.
His fingers teased up the insides of my thighs, coaxing them open, teasing over the super soft spots at the tops.
The next thing I knew, his mouth was closing over my cleft, his tongue pressing into my clit through the rough material of my panties.
My hands slapped down on his back, fingers clawing in, one going to the back of his neck, begging for more. Answering my demand, his hand slid between, moving my panties to the side, sucking my clit into his mouth for a long second, long enough to make my back arch up off the mattress, before his tongue started moving over it - fast, relentless.
"Don't stop," I heard myself beg, feet planting, knees moving upward, hips rising up to meet his hungry mouth. "No," I whimpered when he moved suddenly away, hand dragging my panties down.
"Shh," he demanded softly.
His fingers moved back up my thigh, tracing the seam where it met my hip before moving downward, sliding between my lips, and thrusting inside me.
"Fuck," he growled again, planting his other hand beside my shoulder so he could watch me. "Was this what you were imagining?" he asked as his fingers started lazily thrusting. "Back in the cabin that day?" he asked, making the memory of what he was talking about shoot through my mind with blinding clarity. "No, shh," he demanded again when I started to stiffen. "Don't tense up," he added. "It was hot," he went on. "Hearing that, knowing you were thinking of me touching you like this, got me hard as a fucking rock," he told me. "Even after I thought I had just gotten you out of my system while I was in the shower."
"Gunner..." I started, then choked on a whimper at the end, not even sure what I was about to say.
"That sounds good," he he rumbled. "It will sound better when I'm inside you."
"Gunner, please," I begged, my hands going down his sides to slide over to the front of his pants, unfastening them, reaching inside. My hand barely got to brush over the hard head of his cock before he was suddenly yanking away from me, standing up to full height, looking down at me as he pushed his jeans off his hips. With a swoosh, they hit the floor, leaving him in a pair of navy blue boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his straining cock.
Sliding down, he ran his hand over the tip before reaching to drag the waistband down.
My sex fluttered as a strange, swirling sensation moved through my belly.
And in just seconds, he was as naked before me.
I decided right then and there that nothing could ever be quite as breathtaking as him.
His hand moved down, grabbing his straining cock, stroking it once while he looked at me before stooping slightly, snagging his wallet out of his jeans, grabbing a condom, then making short work of protecting us before lowering back down, lips to belly, tongue up the center, warm breath on my hardened nipples, each touch, lick, kiss, sigh, growl sending shivers across the surface of my skin, making the pressure of desire on my lower stomach almost painful to endure.
"Gunner, please," I begged again, legs folding across his back, pulling his body flush with mine, fingers digging into his shoulders.
"Please what, baby?" he asked, voice all gravel in my ear as his tongue traced the lobe.
"I need you inside me," I told him, lips pressing into his throat.
His cock slid between my lips, just stoking my desire for a long moment before I felt the wide head press against where I needed him most, pausing as he lifted his head to look down at me before sinking inside with a slight pinch.
"Like this?" he asked once he was buried deep, voice strained as his body went even more rigid against mine, trying to hold onto control.
"Yes," I moaned, grinding my hips upward into him, needing the friction, needing the oblivion he was promising me.
"You're so fucking tight," he growled, pulling back before pressing fully inside again, taking every inch of me, claiming me in a way I was sure I had never actually felt before.
Sex was sex.
This? This was more.
This was something different.
This was something I had no name for.
Because I was sure I had never felt it before.
Everything felt new. Every sensation stronger, heightened, more intense, different from anything I had ever known.
Even when his thrusts got faster, harder, as the demands of our bodies made slow and sweet and loving impossible, it felt new, exciting, like something precious I wanted to remember every second of.