Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Not very gracefully.
She didn’t mind that, either.
The second her back hit the bed, Malachi gave her every reason to be grateful for her current position when his head disappeared between her thighs. He toyed with her overtop her panties first. Little strokes of his fingers and soft kisses on top of cotton that made Gracen whine while her hips rocked against him for more.
“Easy,” she heard him whisper as his jaw nuzzled back and forth across the wet spot she could feel forming on her panties. “Standing up or laying down, Gracen, it doesn’t matter. I’m still getting my dessert.”
Yep.
She was thrilled for dessert to be her.
“Do you want that, do you want me to eat you?” Malachi asked.
Dragging her hands through the wavy, loose strands of her hair to fan it back over her bedspread, Gracen couldn’t take her eyes off the man lifting higher to hiver above her.
“Make me cum with your mouth,” she told him, “and I’ll let you finish in mine later.”
His grin turned wicked as his fingers that had been stroking the wet spot suddenly slipped under the gusset of fabric. He found her slick, begging to be touched, and more than willing to give into every sensation he was about to reap on her body. He spread her juices, stroked between her folds, and never once looked away from his task while he played with her.
God.
The sight of him, pleasured by pleasuring her while he licked the taste of her from his fingertips before touching her again, took the words and willpower from Gracen. She was nothing but a warm body she desperately wanted him to use. That was freeing, in a way.
It didn’t have to be more.
His thumb worked inside her tightening, soaked pussy, just a tease to make Gracen weak, before his mouth finally joined the digit. He tasted her, but then that tongue of his flicked higher until it was tunneling along the hood of her clit, and all she could see were stars behind her clenched eyelids.
Fuck being quiet.
She didn’t manage more than grasping at the bedspread before her moans started.
Chapter 12
The walkway along the front of Valleyview Manor was the only proof to its residents and guests that they weren’t at home in a cozy village like it sometimes appeared. Tucked away on ten acres just outside of town, the facility housed seventy to a hundred residents—mostly of senior age—who could no longer live unassisted at home or were in hospice at the final weeks or months of their lives.
The first time Gracen drove up the winding drive of Valleyview Manor, just after Mimi had her first stroke, the place scared her. From the parking lot that seemed too large to the dark gray stonework of the single floor building stretching on farther than even her eye could see. It felt like locking her grandmother away when they admitted her here when just a week before, the woman had been drinking her rum and tea and watching Wheel of Fortune with Gracen. Not that she had any choice in the end; there was nowhere else for Mimi to go, really.
Mimi definitely saw improvement in her first year after a stroke. Her steps forward promised maybe one day she could leave the manor to live at home—should Gracen move into a place that would be senior-friendly—and she had been willing to do that for her grandmother. Mimi’s one living child, a daughter, traveled more than she stayed in one place, and as that had become her job. She had no other grandkids but Gracen, yet, nothing worked out the way they hoped it would.
A second stroke two years after the first left Gracen’s grandmother struggling to walk, a fall-risk everyday, and the mood swings were unbelievable. The second stroke also brought a fall that left Mimi with an untreatable aneurysm that her family doctor could only sigh about when asked why her age would make a difference to whether or not she could get surgery.
Apparently, it did.
The man thought it would help Gracen if he pointed out that surgery wouldn’t guarantee anything, either, and it was almost certain her grandmother would remain at Valleyview Manor until her very last days. It didn’t help.
At all.
If anything, Gracen had been entirely out of her element when it came to getting power of attorney over her grandmother so that she had a safe, happy place where she was cared for and loved while her granddaughter tried to keep moving forward outside of stone walls.
“You better n-not take an-nother two weeks before you visit me again-n, my Gracen-n,” Mimi said, refusing to let go of Gracen’s fingertips while they continued their stroll of the manor’s grounds. She even released the throttle on her motorized scooter to shake a wrinkled, sun-spotted hand in Gracen’s direction. Eighty-six years on this earth didn’t mean anything to the fight Mimi could put up when she wanted; nor did the scooter.