Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Right there.
Love.
He didn’t respond verbally, because he found her, pressed in with the tip, and she lifted her knees, pulling in the whole head.
“Baby,” he murmured, because just that was beautiful.
She ran her hands up either side of his spine, then drifted her nails, feather light, down the length of it.
When she curled her arms around his back, pressed her thighs against his hips, slowly, he slid in to the root.
She released a huh of sweet breath, clutched his sides in two ways, and Dutch closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers.
He’d been right.
Heaven.
He opened his eyes and hers were right there, warm and tender and hot and sexy and open and giving and Georgie.
“It’s done, you know that, yeah?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“It’s done, Georgie,” he repeated.
“Yeah, honey,” she replied.
He got that from her, so he kissed her and only then did he start moving.
The road to that point was a tussle.
The act was slow and deliberate, every stroke feeling like a minor miracle, but that wasn’t who they were and that wasn’t how it ended.
The same time Dutch needed more was the time Georgie caught his ass in her hands and they had to stop kissing because Georgie was gasping, Dutch was grunting, he went in hard, and she rocked with him, encouraging him to go at her harder.
He caught a fist full of her hair against the bed and she scraped her nails up his ass, his back, and then curled her arms so she could hold on to his shoulders, the better to take his fucking.
Phenomenally her pussy squeezed and released with each thrust, and he knew when she lost control of that, and the tips of the gold heels she still had on dug deep into the backs of his thighs, that she was gone before she cried out his name, then whimpered, arching her body, her neck…
And he held on long enough to watch that, file it away, then he let go and shoved his face in her neck, her perfume filling his nose, the rest of her controlling his senses.
He shut his eyes tight, his body tautened, he drove deep and shot hard.
His frame shuddered as he kept coming, and she finished hers and held on tight as he kept coming more.
He felt fluid when it was done and he settled into her, like he’d ooze all over her, when his orgasm let go of him.
And he nuzzled her neck with his nose, drifted a hand over the skin of her side, hip and thigh and held his weight in his other forearm for a long time after.
Finally, he lifted his head and knew by the soft, dazed, affectionate look on her face the answer before he asked, “Worth the wait?”
And Dutch started laughing, still buried to the hilt inside her when she answered…
“Totes.”
* * * *
Dutch switched off the light to the bathroom as he entered the bedroom after he’d cleaned Georgiana up after their third go, and he saw her there, in his bed, on her belly, her hair everywhere, the sheet up, barely covering her ass where he’d tossed it after he’d taken care of her, and she looked asleep even though she was awake.
Hottest thing he’d ever seen, Georgie worn out after Dutch put a fair amount of effort into making her that way.
Murtagh was curled in at her waist.
Dutch turned his head and looked to the bottom of the wall under which his boot rested.
This meant he walked to the bed, knowing he was smirking,
He arranged her how he wanted her, their cat arranged himself how he wanted to be (tucked in at the bend of her body, since they were spooning) before he twisted and turned off the light.
He went back to Georgie, tugging her closer.
“Babe, you put a dent in the wall, throwing my boot,” he said into her hair.
“Shut up, Dutch,” she mumbled in reply.
He grinned in her hair.
She settled her ass further into his groin.
“Best quit doin’ that, darlin’, or you’re gonna take my cock again,” he warned.
“I cannot believe I’m going to say this, but you’re a machine. I cannot take anymore. I need at least…” she gave it a beat, two, then decided, “half an hour to recover.”
Dutch started chuckling.
“How many positions did you do me in that last time?” she asked.
“Just so you know, you wearin’ that dress and dinner lasting two fucking hours because you were eating so goddamned slow, I had plenty of time to think about all the ways I wanted to fuck you.”
“Did you have to do them all in one night?”
“Yeah. You complaining?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” he murmured.
“Do you want a rundown of my favorites?”
“Favorite what?”
“Positions?”
He was surprised she had favorites.
And intrigued.
“You got favorites?”
“Right now, at the top is you fucking me into the bed on my stomach, which, as you know, was the end of the last session. I will note, however, and importantly, that I reserve the right to change that opinion considering the list rearranges itself depending on how you’re doing me.”