Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
My pussy pulses and wetness makes it ache and sing, my clit feeling like it’s inflamed as wave after wave of euphoria makes my hips buck. Some of my dreams are coming true, at least on the physical side. With the ecstasy making my pussy ache, it’s so easy to forget about the rest.
Then the orgasm passes, and it all slams back into me.
We’re in Adam’s kitchen.
Bryson and Eva…
I leap to my feet and turn, staring down at Bryson.
His lips are red from kissing my neck, his fingers glistening from where he was touching me. His chest heaves. Part of his T-shirt is pulled up from his jeans, where my body was grinding against his. This display of his upper chest, the muscles hard and ready, is enough to make me whimper again.
I’m not sure what to say. We gaze at each other like we never want to stop.
Suddenly, he leaps to his feet, and steps toward me, until he’s towering over me like I always dreamed he would. My obsession reaches forward, and he takes my hips in his hands, making my sore pussy ache. He pulls me roughly against him, our bodies colliding.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, almost like a plea, his deep voice shaking.
I try to summon the words, knowing it would be the right thing, but my core tightens at the thought, telling me no way. Telling him to stop would be the worst choice I could make. Even if it would be the right one.
Shaking my head makes him smirk for a moment, and then he leans in, his breath caressing me as his lips get closer to mine. I stand on tiptoes, wrapping my arms around him, this moment feeling utterly new despite the countless times I’ve imagined it, obsessed over it.
His lips crash into mine, enthralling me instantly.
He makes a hungry noise as our mouths open and our tongues eagerly find each other. I don’t have to think about what I’m going to do or question if this is right, wrong, or anything. I let go of control, and I let my desire take over.
I’m kissing him as though my life depends on it. We’re kissing each other like, if we stop, we have to face up to what we’ve done, what we’re doing… so we keep on.
His hands move to my ass, and he makes a stifled groaning noise as he massages it, squeezing the mounds, as though he’s as obsessed with me as I am with him. Maybe he is, physically…
But the rest? I don’t think about that.
“I need you,” he gasps, breaking off the kiss. “I need you now.”
He picks me up, carrying me as he will on our wedding day.
But there won’t be one. I should do what he said—tell him to stop.
He carries me to the bottom of the stairs, handling me as though I weigh nothing, making me feel like I’m floating on a fantasy.
We kiss in intervals as he climbs the stairs, my lips sizzling hotter each second, my panties rubbing against my clit and folds as if getting me ready.
I should tell him. He has to know before we do anything else.
This is what I’ve always wanted, to make my man turn feral, crazed, and obsessed.
He kicks open the door to the spare room, places me on the floor, and then shoves it closed behind him. When he turns to me, I know I’ve never seen a man so filled with need. He clenches his fists at his sides, his eyes blazing, his lips glimmering from our kisses.
“Bend over. Now.”
His voice is urgent. I almost tell him, No, not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The need deep inside isn’t concerned about civility, romance, or any of that. My core aches and tells me to get his seed and his body into mine. That’s it.
I do as he says, even as my heart thumps, even as part of me wishes we could take it slower. He doesn’t know what this means to me. Even so, I’m on the bed, bent over.
He growls like a wild beast, approaching me from behind, grabbing my jeans, and yanking them down, my panties tangled up with them. He doesn’t pull them down all the way, trapping my thighs together instead.
“Fucking. Hell.”
Looking over my shoulder, my heart flurries at the way he stares at me, gazing at my ass like he’s never seen a better sight.
“You’ll take every inch,” he snarls, his eyes glazed.
“Hmm,” I moan, knowing the time’s getting closer.
I need to say something.
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his jeans down just low enough, as if he can’t wait.
I whimper as his massive cock springs up.
I’ve often wondered what he looked like down there, but he’s bigger than I assumed. He’s huge, so massive that when he grabs his base in his big hand, there are still one or two hand lengths left, and he’s wide, veins bulging.