Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
For a long while, I didn’t move, reveling in the sight of her coming down from a violent orgasm as she fought for breath. Her hair tangled around her face, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her brow. I had a notion to lick it off of her, but that would require breaking my reverent stare. It was always a war with me, between the watching and the doing. I was fond of drawing it out. Making it as painstakingly slow as I could.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Death by orgasm sounds like the way to go.”
My quip was funny for all of two seconds before reality crept back in. I didn’t want to joke about losing her. Ever.
Standing up, I discarded my clothes while Brighton watched with heavy lids. Her eyes roamed over my body while she bit her lip to hide a smile. Those eyes were the loudest thing about her. Volumes of emotions lived inside them, and right now they betrayed her hunger.
“Like what you see, baby girl?” I teased.
“You’re such a cocky bastard,” she giggled.
I shrugged. “I’m your cocky bastard.”
Taking my place on the bed, I relaxed against the headboard, cock standing at attention between my legs.
“Come up here,” I ordered. “I want to watch you ride me.”
“You mean you want to have access to my huge boobs so you can play with them the entire time,” she retorted.
Again, I shrugged. No need to play coy.
Brighton wiggled her way towards me, stretching her legs on opposite sides of my hips before planting her ass in my lap. Her hands used my shoulders as a springboard as she rubbed herself against my cock. A groan escaped in spite of my feigned composure.
“Somebody’s being greedy,” she threw the words back at me as she slid along my length, teasing but not quite letting me inside.
It was of little consequence to me. I leaned back and stretched my hands behind my head to enjoy the show. I could watch this all fucking day.
Brighton threw her head back in laughter, taunting me with the creamy skin along her throat. Lusting for a taste of it, I bobbed forward and captured her around the waist, flicking my tongue against her pulse. That pulse beat for me. Without that pulse, I was nothing.
That knowledge got me harder than anything else ever could. She was all mine to play with. To tease and taunt and fuck how I saw fit. My teeth scraped along her sensitive skin and brought on a welcome hitch in her breath. Brighton liked the anticipation. The ever present knowledge that I’d sink my teeth into her flesh, but never quite knowing where.
Course, I had to be more cautious in the places I went about it these days. Another welcome side effect of her carrying my child. Even the sadist in me had a tender spot for the little fella. We didn’t want to harm him.
At the base of her throat, I gave her just enough of a nip to leave a little mark. That would do quite nicely to distract. She moaned and tugged at my hair in a weak attempt to take back control by shoving my face into her skin. I used the hand resting on her tit to pinch the nipple at the same time I bit down on her shoulder.
“Again,” she ordered.
My palms squeezed her ass and then smacked it for good measure.
“Sorry, my love,” my voice darkened. “Was that a command you just gave me?”
“Please,” she begged recklessly. “Mark me again.”
Hard fingers wrapped around her pony tail and gave a sharp tug. “Do you forget who you’re talking to?”
Her eyes widened as her head rattled back and forth in a frantic effort. “Never,” she promised. “You’re in charge, Ryland.”
I hummed my approval against the column of her neck, imbibing her scent in long, slow pulls. My lips roamed over the silken landscape of her skin, pausing to nip her earlobe before further exploration. She hissed in a breath, and I used the opportunity to latch onto her neck. Sucking her until she bruised, I soothed it over with my tongue while my fingers strummed circles over her back.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Covering her hand with mine, I dragged it down until it was wrapped around my cock. I liked to watch her play with it, to see the uncertainty bloom across her face as she handled the beast. She made a fist and gave a couple light tugs before teasing my balls with the pads of her fingers. Something else she liked to play with. I wasn’t complaining.
My head fell back, and I urged her forward. Without much decorum, her breast was promptly stuffed into my mouth while she pleasured me. I wanted to be inside of her, but prolonging her defiant foreplay seemed like an acceptable alternative.