Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Her lips came alive under mine, taking, giving, demanding more.
My hand slid to the back of her neck, holding on as my tongue moved inside to claim hers.
Her moan vibrated against my mouth, making my fingers tighten on her neck.
My other hand moved down her side, then around her hips to sink into her ass, dragging her more tightly against me.
A shiver racked Violet’s system as she felt my hard length against her stomach.
Violet’s hand slid down my arm, over my hip, then between us, stroking over my cock through my pants.
My own hand moved then, teasing the waistband of her panties.
“You can’t,” she said against my lips.
“Why not?”
“I’m so sweaty.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said as my hand slid under the waistband of her shorts, finding her already wet and ready for me.
She moaned against my lips as her hand stroked me again.
Then, as my fingers slipped inside her, hers moved to pull down the waistband of my shorts, closing around me again without the barrier.
I swear I almost came right then and there.
There were a million other circumstances that would have been more romantic. But, somehow, sweaty and bloody and shaky from adrenaline, felt right for us as we drove each other up.
“Wick,” Violet cried, fisting my cock hard as her walls tightened around my fingers.
“Come for me,” I demanded, my voice a harsh command.
Then she was, her pussy tightening around my fingers, her moans filling the air.
And, thinking about those walls clenching around my cock, I came with her.
We just stood there afterward, bodies close, breath ragged, coming back down. From the orgasms, from the chase, from both nearly dying.
It wasn’t until a squawk above us had us breaking apart.
“Just a macaw,” I said, looking up to see a slash of red amongst all of the green.
“Do you think they could find another way to this side?” she asked, turning to look in the direction of the river.
“Eventually, yes. We should keep… oh, duchess,” I said, getting an eyeful of her back.
“It’s just a couple scratches.”
There were those, sure. And I wanted to clean and treat them. But I was talking more about the giant bruise forming across her skin. She’d hit that wall hard. Dangling there, hanging on for dear life, thinking she was all alone in the jungle.
“You must have been fucking terrified.”
“That about sums it up.”
“The guy who was on the bridge with you when it went down… he fell?”
“After I kicked his hand,” Violet said, her tone guarded. “He was trying to pull me down. I didn’t… have any choice.”
“This is a survival scenario,” I reminded her as I reached into my backpack to find the first aid kit. “You don’t have to feel weird or guilty about doing what you have to do to survive. And they are actively trying to kill us.”
“Do you have any idea where they all went to? After the one guy fell, I was so focused on getting up on land again that I really wasn’t paying attention to any of them.”
“I went kind of thick into the jungle. It was impossible to see them. I imagine they are looking for a way across right now.”
“We should keep moving.”
“We will. Just let me treat your back. We can’t be risking any kind of infection when we are this deep into the rainforest. Better to take the two minutes to clean these cuts and put a protective barrier on them now.”
“What about you?” she asked, reaching for the hem of my shirt and lifting up to see the graze on my side. “Oh, it’s not too bad. Your head looks worse.”
“Feels worse too.”
Now that all the adrenaline had drained, the headache was pounding in my temple.
“Are you dizzy at all? Seeing double? Nauseated?”
“I don’t think I have a concussion.” I turned her so I could clean up her back, then swabbed on some antibiotic cream. Suddenly, I wished I’d packed a second first aid kit. But how the hell could I have imagined we would need so much mending? We were supposed to be out of here just a few hours after we came in.
“Alright. All done,” I said, sticking all the used products into a plastic bag I kept in my pack. Then I reached to start cleaning myself up.
“Wait. Let me,” she said, taking the saline rinse and gauze out of my hand. She cleaned my side first, then set her sights on my head. “This isn’t as bad as it looked at first either. Head wounds just bleed so bad. I think you could use a few stitches, though…”
“I have some glue in the kit.”
“You want me to glue it? Like actually glue your head?”
“It’s better than leaving it open. I’ve done it a time or two. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Just pinch the skin together as best you can, then squeeze some glue on. It should dry in a couple of seconds, then you can let go.”