Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Twenty
Quinn
All that and Adam expected me to be able to answer? Not happening. I made a needy noise that should have embarrassed me, but we were so far beyond embarrassed at this point. All I could do was moan again and hope Adam was good at reading my thoughts as always.
But no. He licked me again with his dirty, wicked tongue. “Tell me.”
“Please.” It was all I could manage. My skin was still damp from the shower and every pore was on fire, body heating up with every tease from Adam.
Another lick and a glancing caress of his hand over my straining cook. “You want to come like this? Me rimming and sucking you? Or…”
Or. I wanted it all. I could come from what he was doing with his mouth, almost too easily, but we’d been dancing toward fucking for weeks now. And he was going to make me say it, wasn’t going to push or take. I swallowed hard, gathering enough courage to voice the need inside me.
“I want more. Fingers. Cock. Want you to fuck me. Please.”
“Mmm. Good boy.” Adam’s thumb brushed against my rim again, and I shivered.
“Not dry,” I managed to add because I was still me and nervousness was warring with want. I didn’t do this very often, and a big reason was my tendency to overthink everything to the point of zapping all the fun and spontaneity from fucking.
“I’ve got you, baby. Promise.” Adam laughed even as his hands soothed me with gentle touches. “And I’m not going to use soap or shampoo as lube either. I hid real lube and a condom out here earlier.”
“Oh.” I drank in some extra air. Him planning this was extra sexy, the way he’d set all this up for me and my pleasure. The whole day had been like that, everything from reading on the river bank to dinner to how he washed me so tenderly. “You do come prepared.”
“I take care of you. Told you that.” Reaching up to the low shelf, he retrieved a small bottle and a condom from behind the shampoo. “Also, when I went to the doctor about the headache med, I freshened up my test results. You can trust me, Quinn.”
“I do.” I wanted to say more, try to tell him how much he and his gentle caretaking meant to me, but he was groping my ass again, making it hard to do much more than sigh happily. My nervousness ebbed, retreating even more from his words than his delicious touch. I liked how he seemed to know this was a big deal for me.
“We can stop whenever you need.” He kissed right where my ass met my thigh. “Let me make this good for you.”
“I trust you.” I closed my eyes and let my head fall against my forearms.
“Thank you. Gonna take such good care of you.” With that, he went back to rimming me. The lewd noises and happy rumbles from him were almost as arousing as what his tongue was doing, and when a slick finger joined the fun, I didn’t tense up. Instead, I relaxed into the touch, let him work me open with lips and tongue and blunt fingertip.
“Oh. So good.” In other circumstances, I’d be telling him to hurry up, but here, with the gorgeous pink-and-gold sky above us, there was no such urge to rush or feeling awkward that I was taking so much of his time. Hours seemed to snake out in front of us, and if Adam wanted to give me this, then I was going to let him.
“Such a good boy. That’s it. Take my finger.” He made it good and safe to want all this attention, and all his whispered praise and dirty sounds reassured me. Breathing heavily, I luxuriated in his gentleness and how slowly he transitioned from rimming to fingering me in earnest, stretching me gradually and going deeper on each pass.
“Daddy,” I gasped as his fingers finally, finally pressed fully against my prostate. He knew what he was doing too, rubbing and pressing that spot. I wanted to be good for him, not touch my throbbing cock until he gave permission. However, I couldn’t help rocking my hips, seeking more and more of the delicious contact, needing him deeper, faster, more.
He had two slippery fingers scissoring back and forth as a third teased the edge of my rim. “Need you to take three, baby. Can you do that for Daddy?”
“Yes. Yes,” I chanted, shameless now in how much I needed him. The third finger did burn as my body adjusted to the invasion, him pushing my limits in the best way. Bigger and fuller than my favorite plug, and still, I wanted, needed more. My cock pumped drop after drop of precome. A stroke. Two. That was all I needed, but I didn’t reach for myself.