Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Maybe I should back off…?” I pretended to need to think, slowing my motions and making my neck kisses whisper-soft.
“No. Please. Want it.” He arched against me, thighs shaking, tension rolling off him in delicious waves that pushed me closer, even without jerking myself. “Please. Keep…”
He trailed off on a long moan as I gave in and left a harder, longer bite on the curve of his neck into his shoulder. “Fuck. You’re so hot when you beg.”
“I’m so close.” His voice was the sexiest whine I’d ever heard, and I thrust harder against his ass while kissing his neck like it was a mission-critical operation. “Please, Harley. I’m so close.”
“Do it,” I whispered right in his ear. “Fuck that bed until you come.”
“You…too. On me.”
“Oh, I will,” I promised, speeding up my motions and kisses. “All over you. Gonna paint your ass.”
“Yes.” He groaned like my crude words were exactly what he’d been waiting for, moving frantically against the mattress, making it hard to keep up with him. But his desperation was also the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and I kissed and licked and thrust, determined to bring him off. And when he groaned again, so did I.
I almost went over with him. I was that keyed up, and the way he shook and shuddered as he came down from his orgasm had me reaching for my aching dick, jerking it hard and fast.
Rising onto my knees so I could stroke better, I traced my thumb over the mark I’d left on his shoulder blade. “Gonna paint this spot.”
“Yes. Do that.” He encouraged me with little motions, the sound of his heavy breathing alone enough to have me riding the edge. He thrust against the bed like he was getting one last spurt out, and that was it. I was toast. “Here it comes…”
I came on a series of harsh grunts, the orgasm almost painful, making my balls ache from how hard I shot all over Ambrose’s back. And damn, he was the sexiest mess ever, all love bites and streaks of my come. I’d expected coming to feel good. It always did, but this possessiveness was new, a deeper level of pleasure. Somehow, his climax made mine better, and touching him with my free hand as I came and came made my orgasm last that much longer.
“I promise not to hog the pillows, but please don’t expect me to move anytime soon.” He gave a sleepy groan as I fetched a towel and cleaned us both off. “And I ruined your shirt.”
I laughed as he tossed the used T-shirt to the floor. “I brought extra. Turned me on like crazy, knowing you were coming on it.”
“Me too.” He snuggled into my side as I stretched back out beside him. “Think we scared the dog?”
I glanced at the sitting area where the dog was snoozing away on his footstool. “Nah. Looks like Hercules slept right through.”
“Excellent.” He yawned and rested his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him, holding him close, natural as breathing. “Tell me we can do that again.”
“We can.” I could have said no. I should have said no. But I wasn’t a liar, and I knew damn well my body was already planning a morning repeat and doing complicated math to figure out how many more orgasms we could squeeze in before returning to reality and any consequences.
Chapter Nineteen
Ambrose
I’d never contemplated canine curses before, but when Hercules started whining before the sun was fully up on Saturday, I was very tempted to wish him a week of generic dog food or some other atrocious doggie fate.
“Dog. It’s the crack of dawn,” I whispered sternly. But he persisted, standing right next to my side of the bed. And hey, I had a side of the bed versus a lonely expanse all to myself. Today, I had the luxury of a big, warm SEAL pressed against my bare back. No way did I want to get up.
“Want me to take him?” Harley leaned over my shoulder to peer down at the dog.
“It’s all right.” Sighing like I was about to face a firing squad, I hefted myself upright. I couldn’t let Harley do the morning walk twice in a row. “He’s my dog, even if he thinks he’s a rooster. I’ll go.”
“Okay.” Harley gave me a little push out of bed. I searched for pants and a warm shirt, only to turn around and find Harley tugging on a pair of jeans instead of lounging in the bed like I’d expected. The hooded sweatshirt he’d worn yesterday lay next to him.
“What are you doing?”
“If I don’t get to wake you up the way I planned, at least I can watch the sunrise with you.” He stretched his arms, one side then the other, before pulling on the hoodie. “Got the leash?”