Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
“Yes,” she breathes, smacking the wall with a fist, and when I think she might come, she hauls herself back, gasping for breath, leaving me on my knees, my watering mouth ravenous for more.
“Rose,” I warn, reaching for her thigh. She moves back. “Don’t make this violent.” Another step back. My nostrils flare, my desperation going through the roof. “Come here.”
Her smile is salacious as she pads toward my kneeling form. She cups my head in her palms, looking down at me. “Do you want me to fuck you, Danny?” she asks, bending, getting her mouth to my ear. She licks behind my lobe, instigating a whole new level of shakes. They ripple through me, from my brain to my toes, and I hiss, forced to pin down my dick before it explodes. “Ride you,” she whispers. “Grind onto you. Scream your name.”
“I’m a patient man, Rose, but you’re pushing me.”
“What are you going to do?” She licks the shell of my ear, humming, satisfied when I jerk. “Kill me?”
“Why are you testing me?” She knows what I need. Stop denying me.
“Because. I. Can.” She shoves me down to my back and straddles me, lifting and seizing my dick. Then she levels us up and sinks down on a moan, her head falling back.
Lord have mercy, the sight, the feel. She shifts her legs, placing the soles of her feet on either side of my chest, leaning back and anchoring herself with her palms on my shins. I reach up to her throat and stroke down between her breasts as she rises and smashes down, our flesh slapping. “Fuck!” I grab her knees, and she goes again, up and down with force. My head rises and falls back to the shower floor with a whack. A roll of her hips, a grind, a sharp rise and fall. And then she’s in her flow, bouncing up and down on my lap, her head tossing from side to side on constant cries of pleasure. I lift my head again, but this time fight to keep it up, looking down my tense torso, watching my cock sink into her constantly. My neck muscles strain, my thighs rigid, my stomach aching. But the view. The view is so worth it. She gasps, I roar. She moans, I hiss. The sensations, the friction, the rush of my release charging through me. I need more.
I shoot up, circling an arm around her, and take her down to her back, sinking in quickly and thrusting frenziedly, my hands pressed into the shower floor, my arms ramrod straight, holding me up. “Danny!”
“Because. I. Can,” I yell, shaking some water out of my eyes, never faltering in my pace. Her hands grapple at my pecs, fly over her head, sink into her hair. And then they’re on my face, her fingers dragging across my lips, feeling, her eyes drowsy but alive. She’s going.
I pull out on a bark and spin her onto her front, ramming back inside of her. My biceps bulge, holding me at half height as I bite at her wet back, powering on. My body’s hurting. Every muscle’s pulling. My mind’s gone. Pound after pound, I give it to her. Scream after scream, she begs me for it.
And when we go, we go together, and it’s fucking loud.
I bellow at the ceiling as her walls grab on and wring me dry, her body twitching beneath me, her voice broken and hoarse. I collapse, dazed, breathless, and more in love with my wife than I thought possible. “I hate you,” I pant, pushing my face into her wet hair.
“I hate you more.” She can hardly speak. Can’t move. So I force myself up with some effort, slipping free on a wince. My dick’s still pulsing. Jesus, that was good. And so fucking needed.
“Stay there.” I reach for the shower gel, squeezing some across her back, and straddle her arse, starting to work her muscles back to life as I watch her profile, her cheek resting on her folded arms under her head. Her eyes are closed. Her lips parted to find air.
“You weren’t wearing your vest,” she says, remaining in her darkness. “You promised.”
“I don’t think a bulletproof vest would have saved me from a bomb, baby.” I push my thumbs firmly into her spine and work them up to her neck, her body rolling with them. “And there wasn’t time.”
“Why?”
My escape has been short-lived. “The Bear knows James is alive. James got a call.”
“What did he say?”
I feel her muscles harden under my touch. “Relax,” I order, massaging deeply. “Nothing. Only Beau’s name.” I swallow, watching my touch move across her shoulder blades. “He knows she’s James’s weak spot. As you are mine.”
She moves to turn over, so I get off her, resting my arse on my heels. “Is she okay?”