Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
She’s guiding me to her, and every muscle in my body tightens as I sink into her. Slowly, I inch into her until I’m fully seated within her. Her wet heat is every-fucking-thing. I thrust in and out of her over and over until she wraps her legs around my waist. Her tiny, juicy pussy contracts around my cock. I can hear the squelching sound it makes with every hard thrust, and it turns me on even more. She can’t keep still, meeting my every move. I reach between us and pinch her clit.
“Oh, my God, Joshie. Please. Please. Please,” she begs.
“Fuck you feel so fucking good, Peaches,” I grunt, my hips still pistoning. Fuck, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
“That’s it, this is what I need,” she cries out. “Please, please,” She continues to beg for me. My orgasm comes out of nowhere. It’s so fucking hard; I think I might pass out because I’ve forgotten to breathe. My cock swells as I explode within her. Dropping down to my elbows, I kiss her deeply; her pussy clenches with my cock still buried inside of her. Shit, I’ve unleashed a huge load already. My dick shouldn’t be hard again, but it is. She’s the only woman who could do this to me. Her tight cunt calls to me on a primal level that I didn’t know existed. I’m so fucking desperate for her. She squeezes her pussy muscles around me, and I just about die.
"Peaches," I groan as I make several hard, shallow thrusts.
“Again?” she asks.
“We are just getting started,” I groan as I lift her leg into the air and put it on my shoulder. I can’t stop fucking her. She takes every thrust. I literally feel like I’ve come home. I stay inside of her, my cock still hard. It doesn’t surprise me. It’s been five fucking years. I’ve got loads saved up for her.
“ Are you going to answer my question,” I ask, flexing my hips.
“ Which question was that?” she moans.
“How many men have been inside this perfect little cunt?”
“What difference does it make?” It shouldn’t make a bit of difference, but I find that I’m a jealous man. Anger like I’ve known sears my blood and fuels my rage.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“None,” she says, resigned. I breathe a sigh of relief. The dread I have felt since I saw her eases into nothing. “How many girls did you make come with this massive cock?” She squeezes me with her inner muscles. My eyes roll back in my head.
“There has never been anyone, but you. The thought of being with anyone else is repulsive. You can’t know your soulmate is out there and fuck someone else it’s impossible to do. You know don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“It’s why neither one of us sought out pleasure in the last five years, besides the fact, we were never officially over. We made promises. The miles between us didn’t change anything for me. She nods and begins to move her hips. I flip over onto my back, letting her take control of her pleasure.
What began in anger ended like it always did. Extreme satisfaction and love.
Time couldn’t change that. Nothing can.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
MARCH
God, he is too good-looking, and that is the problem. I am sitting beside him while he drives my truck to the next location, sneaking peeks at his muscles and that face I have always loved, and I know these are the reasons I am so damn careless once again. I slept with him again with no protection. What the hell was I thinking? Ha, that's funny. That's just it. I wasn't thinking. “I can hear you thinking, Peaches.” Joshua puts his hand on my thigh and smiles at me before looking back at the road. “Just go with it, Peaches. Just feel and follow your heart. See where it takes us.”
My mind keeps conjuring up the angry sex we had last night and how freaking hot it was. I mean, when we were first together, he was always gentle and soft. But last night, last night was a grown man, fucking the woman who pissed him off, showing her whose boss. Hell, my pussy is still sore from how many times he took me last night. “I remember when there was a time when I lived to hear you call me that,” I confess to him, leaning my head back against the seat headrest.
“Then why the hell did you leave, March? I don’t get it. I thought we loved each other. Was I wrong? Was I in it alone?” I can hear the anguish in his heart, and my own is bleeding yet clogged up, thinking of the time we missed. “Did you really love me?” The car has stopped because we are in the driveway of the next place, so I look at him and shake my head.