Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
She’s plus size grab-me-now sexy, the sort of woman—
No, she’s not the sort of anything.
She, whoever this goddess is, is just her and nobody else.
There is no comparison.
Her breasts are large and round and bouncy looking, made for tit fucking and for sucking until her nipples are red and pulsing and yet needy for more. And later, once I’ve fucked and sucked and licked her a thousand times, then I’ll let our children have access to them so they can suck her milky life juices from her. That’s what she is – and now my cock is really aching as I think about this, staring hard at her, staring like a predator – a mother and a sex goddess rolled into one.
A crazy thought strikes me like lightning.
I need to impregnate this woman.
She’s looking down at her Kindle, biting her bottom lip now, her cheeks kissed red from the heat. She’s not wearing any makeup and this just heightens her natural beauty.
She has the sort of skin I imagine dappling red all over, her breasts and her big juicy ass cheeks getting nice and crimson for me when I lick her from clit to collarbone.
She looks up, letting her lip go.
“Oh, hello,” she says.
“Hi,” I smirk, masking the need inside of me with my business asshole façade. “I was expecting my daughter.”
“Right here, Dad,” Yasmin says from behind me.
I turn, finding it insanely difficult to drag my gaze away from this woman…
This woman who, in my mind, is already mine. I imagine somebody coming in here and trying to make a claim on her, trying to touch those curvaceous hips, trying to kiss that pouting drill-me-hard mouth.
I’d kill them.
I’d tear them apart.
Yasmin stands at the kitchen counter, chopping onions, her black hair tied up in a bun. I walk around the obsidian kitchen island and give her a hug.
“How was the flight?” she asks.
“I worked most of the way,” I tell her, trying my best to keep my voice steady.
I want to roar, to slam my fists against my chest and shout as loud as I can that this woman, whoever she is, belongs to me.
“Are you going to introduce me?” I ask.
“Introduce you?” she murmurs. “To who?”
I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if this is one of her jokes that I always seem to misunderstand.
“How about to the only other person in the apartment?” I say.
She looks at me and then the woman – my woman – and back again. She bursts out laughing, dropping her knife on the chopping board so that she can clutch her sides and throw her head back.
“I’m missing something, I assume,” I mutter drily.
That just makes her giggle, even more, tears springing to her eyes.
I bite down my annoyance and turn to the woman, the tension within me morphing to something else entirely as I drink in the sight of her once again. She’s placed her Kindle on the sleek glass table and leans forward, as though unsure if she should stand and join us.
Leaning forward like that causes her breasts to shift with her, making my cock hammer at the base, go tight and hungry like any second it could explode.
But I wouldn’t let it.
I won’t waste a single drop of my seed anywhere but her hungry little pussy.
Fuck, I never knew I wanted any more kids.
But now I know.
I need more kids … with her.
“Have we met before?” I ask.
She stands, cheeks blushing an even fiercer shade of red. I feel myself grimacing at her because it’s the only shape my lips can make that isn’t a declaration of my need for her. I almost laugh when I imagine how that would go down with Yasmin standing right here.
“Um, yes, we’ve met,” she says, her shyness just making me want to grab her, claim her even more, draw her desires out of her, draw everything out of her.
“Dad,” Yasmin says, finally calming down, “it’s Jade. You know, Jade. My best friend? The girl I mentored like forever ago? She’s lived here for almost half a decade?”
Jade? I almost shout it in shock but manage to keep it contained to my mind.
The last time I saw Jade, she looked like a child, dorky in the extreme, wearing a T-shirt with a wizard on it. I don’t remember ever thinking anything about her. She was just one of Yasmin’s friend. Fine, her best friend. But still just a background figure.
Now she’s my main focus.
Now I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.
Now she’s my everything.
“Okay,” I say, masking everything as though I’m in a business meeting. “Nice to meet you – again – Jade.”
“And you, Mr. Jensen,” she murmurs.
“Jade, just call him Jamie,” Yasmin laughs. “That’s alright, yeah, Dad?”
I shrug. “Makes no difference to me. What’s for dinner? Tell me it’s steak.”
“Yeah, just like you asked, your Highness.”