Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
His hands slide up my body.
I can feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric. It’s almost reverent the way he looks at me like he’s savoring every second, every inch of my skin that he’s about to uncover. His eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity in them sends a shiver down my spine, making me ache for more.
Slowly, he tugs the straps of my camisole down, letting the fabric slide over my shoulders. His fingers graze my skin, leaving a trail of heat that has me trembling, my breath catching in my throat. When the camisole slips down further, exposing my breasts, his pupils grow and his gaze becomes dark and heavy with desire. It feels like he’s memorizing every detail, every curve.
He leans in, his mouth finding my skin and presses soft kisses along the line of my collarbone, and then lower, until his lips brush over my hard nipples. The sensation is electric, and I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as he circles my nipple with his tongue, teasing and tasting. It’s a slow, torturous rhythm, one that makes my body arch toward him, silently begging for more.
His hand moves up to cup my other breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, and the combination of his mouth and hand is almost too much. He sucks gently, then harder, his tongue flicking in a way that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through me. My head falls back, and I let out a high-pitched call, unable to hold back the sounds of my own need.
His hands roam over my body, sliding down my sides, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, before they move back up to my breasts, squeezing and caressing. The warmth of his touch, the way his hands feel against my bare skin, is indescribably sweet. He’s taking his time, savoring every inch of me, and it makes me feel more desired than I’ve ever been before.
His mouth moves from one breast to the other, sucking and teasing, and I can feel the heat pooling between my thighs, my body responding to every touch, every kiss. His hands hold me steady as I tremble beneath his touch. I arch into him, my fingers curling around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every bit of him against me. This is heaven.
When he finally pulls back, his breath warm against my skin, I’m left feeling raw and hungry for more. His eyes meet mine, and there’s a possessiveness in his gaze that makes my heart beat like a trapped bird. It’s like he’s telling me without words that he’s not done, that there’s so much more he wants to explore, to feel, and I find myself aching to give him everything.
“Ride me,” he groans, his voice husky and strained, and I know he’s just as lost in this as I am. I start bouncing on his hard cock. It’s fast, frantic—each movement bringing me closer to the edge. I can feel every inch of him inside me, hitting all the right spots. I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I throw my head back, lost in the feeling.
His hands move to my ass, squeezing and guiding me as I ride him harder. His mouth finds my breast, and the sensation of his lips, his tongue swirling over my skin, is enough to start the first waves. I’m losing myself, the pleasure building higher and higher until it’s almost unbearable. I can’t think; I can only feel—the heat of his body, the way he fills me so perfectly, the wet slapping sound of our bodies coming together.
“Faster,” he urges, and I obey, my movements becoming more frantic, more desperate as I chase the release that’s so close I can taste it. His touch becomes rough and fierce, but so, so good, and when he thrusts up hard, I come undone. My body shudders and breaks into millions of pieces as my cries echo through the conservatory.
Those cries… they are his name!
The explosive climax goes on and on and it is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. And I know then that he has ruined me for all other men.
He follows right after, his grip tightening as he spills inside me, his head falling back against the chair, a deep, guttural groan ripping out of him. I feel the heat of him filling me, and the sensation only prolongs my pleasure, drawing out every last bit of my climax until I’m shaking, my body spent.
For a long while, neither of us move. We’re both breathing heavily, our bodies still tangled together, the aftershocks leaving me feeling raw and exposed. I can’t look into his eyes. I collapse against him, resting my head on his shoulder as I catch my breath. His arms wrap around me, holding me close, and for a moment, it’s not just about the sex—it’s something deeper, something that scares me as much as it thrills me.