Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
What the flaming heck? A waste?
Good grief, I can only assume this need and want is sending me crazy, for I am having the most pathetic thoughts. There is nothing left for it. I swivel my hips and gently push my way inside her on a broken groan, the tautness eyewatering but marvellous in equal measure.
‘Frank!’ she yelps, making me instantly still, breathing heavy, her nails scratching at my back brutally.
‘Taya!’ I yell in reply, gritting my teeth and tensing my back, every sense alive and sensitive, so sensitive I can hardly tolerate it. I blow out my cheeks, feeling her squeeze around me. ‘Taya, you must stop that.’
‘I cannot!’
More teeth gritting. More air leaving me. Now, too, my eyes cross, and my face turns up towards the ceiling briefly before my head drops, the energy needed to hold myself up too much. I open my eyes and find her neck, and I watch as it swells over and over on her constant swallows. I dip and kiss it, then her chin, her cheek, her mouth. And I roll my hips. I swear, I have never felt a pleasure like it. Never. I have lain with many women, some I’m certain were virgins, but none of them, not one, had me at sixes and sevens like this. I cannot fathom why Taya Winters has had this confounding impact on me. I cannot, but I wish to the gods that someone could elucidate so I might comprehend how I should handle this unexpected situation I have come to find myself in.
I stare down at her. Why, I wonder, have I covered her beautiful eyes?
The answer scares me. It truly scares me. But still, I reach up and push the material away, and she blinks rapidly as I take her hands and lift them above her head while I wait for her to find her focus and, more importantly, find me. When she does, something kicks inside of me, something profound and significant. Except I don’t know what it is or what it means.
Or, perhaps, I simply do not want to acknowledge it.
‘Taya,’ I whisper, kissing her as I roll and thrust, slow and concise, ensuring we both feel every tiny movement, for it is exquisite.
‘Frank,’ she breathes in return, her tongue seeming to find its flow from mine with ease, and I marvel at how good a kisser she is. ‘I have never felt anything like this.’
‘Me either,’ I admit.
Her mouth stops suddenly, and as a result, my pumping does too, and I frown, pulling back. She looks as confused as I feel. ‘But, Frank, you have done this many times, with many women, I am sure.’
‘You are right.’ I nuzzle our noses and resume with my drives, showering her face with kisses, long and short ones, deep and chaste ones. ‘But you, my lady, are quite another experience.’
‘I am?’
I jerk, the blood starting to rage down below. ‘God, you are!’
‘Oh!’ She jacks up off the bed. ‘What is that? What is happening?’
I say nothing, unable to speak, and maintain my pace and pressure, thrilling in the signs that she is on the brink with me.
‘Frank!’ she yelps, grappling at my back. ‘Oh my God!’
It hits me like a charging stallion, and I yell, releasing Taya’s mouth and throwing my head back, my body contorting, bending … breaking. ‘Jesus!’ She squeezes me so hard, and I relish the pressure, feeling my seed being drawn out by the constrictions of her internal muscles. ‘My God,’ she breathes, going lax beneath me.
‘Indeed.’ I am but a useless pile of man, unable to even roll off her. ‘I must be heavy,’ I say into her neck, smelling the salty scent of sex and sweat. It is delightful, I must tell you, so delightful my tongue leaves my mouth of its own volition and licks some of it up, and I release her wrists and slide my fingers through hers, clenching our hands together.
‘I am fine,’ she pants. ‘Very fine, in fact.’
‘Very, very fine?’
‘Yes, I am, but please refrain from allowing your ego to swell.’
I grin and bite my way up to her face. ‘What about your ego?’
‘I do not have an ego, Frank Melrose.’
‘Oh, my sweet lady, you most certainly do.’ I kiss her nose. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I feel the most content I have since …’ She fades off, frowning.
‘Go on,’ I prompt.
‘Since Papa was alive and thrilling me with his perfectly crazy mind.’ She smiles sadly. ‘I do so miss him.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say once again, and it feels wholly inadequate. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Oh.’ Her forehead creases a fraction, her smile unsure. ‘All right. Well, while he worked on his inventions, I would draw him. He loved that. Would pull all kinds of silly faces. I know I have my brothers and my mother, but …’