Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“What were you doing?” I whisper.
He takes a step forward, heat radiating from his body.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I did a few pushups to work out some of this tension.”
“Did it work?”
He smirks, reaching down, groaning as his hands claim my hips. I moan as I feel his hands on me. I can’t help it. His touch is just as electric as the first time he touched me at the wedding when I knew my life would never be the same again.
“What do you think?” he growls.
Stop, I try to say or should say. When he kisses me, I forget all about being a good daughter, especially when he slides his hands from my hips to my ass, massaging me, driving his hips forward so I can feel his solid length against my belly. Our lust carries us across the room, a dance toward the bed.
I fall back, and he collapses atop me, our lips never parting. When he props his hands up on the bed so he doesn’t crush me, I grab his arms and squeeze to feel his solid biceps against my palms. He stops the kissing, rears back, and holds me captive in his gaze.
“If you’re going to tell me to stop,” he snarls, “now would be the time. Otherwise, I won’t be able to.”
I almost say it. A vignette of Mom flashes across my mind. Then my core starts to ache and get warm, my lips sore, my clit pulsing with the memory of when he licked between my legs.
“What if I can’t do it?” I whisper.
“You can,” he growls. “You will. Your body was made for me. Only me.”
He kisses me again, leaning aside slightly to slide his hand up my leg. I spread my thighs, pushing down any nervous or guilty voices, listening to the roar of want instead.
When he pushes his hand against my sex, I can’t think about anything except the pleasure bursting through me. He’s right. My body is ready for this, waiting for him. He rubs slowly at first but gets quicker, firmer, as I moan more intensely through the kiss. Then he stops kissing and leans back.
“I need to watch you. You look so damn gorgeous when you come.”
Pulling my shorts down to my knees, he pushes his hand against my naked pussy, groaning as he touches my hole and then paws up my lips, stopping at my clit, and spreading wetness all over me.
“Just think,” he says huskily. “This could be the start of everything. Our family.”
“I want it so freaking badly.”
All I have to do is not think about Mom. Not think about the fact I promised myself we’d wait. It’s easy to forget when he focuses on my clit, massaging it compulsively as if nothing could stop him.
My hips become possessed with the spirit of lust, moving in time with his hand, chasing the searing, starry sensation. Each stroke of his fingers across my clit triggers another wave of near release, as though an orgasm is pressing against a dam within, barely contained, and any second…
“Oh, fuck,” Miles groans. “Yes, Layla. Come for me. Only for me. Nobody else ever gets to see you looking so damn perfect.”
“Hmm… hmm…”
It’s the only sound I can make as the pleasure bursts from my body, my legs shaking, a deep cord of euphoria trembling inside me. Everything releases. All the stress. All the doubt. All the regret. Even the guilt. It all drains away as my hips shudder, and his hand goes into overdrive, owning my clit. I gasp as the orgasm ends, aftershocks causing my heart to hammer and my hips to twitch.
Miles stands up, looming over the bed, more sweat coating his powerful form and making him glisten. “I need you,” he says fiercely. “I need your sweet, tight virgin hole. Get those shorts off now. I need to see you. Every perfect inch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Miles
I tear off my shorts and underwear, standing at the edge of the bed as my woman stares at me. Her cheeks are flushed and perfect, and she spreads her thighs. She’s showing me her pussy, still shiny with her release, come spread all over her folds and tight pink hole. She props herself on her elbows, staring wide-eyed at my dick.
“You’re even bigger than I thought,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “You were made for me.”
“Only you,” she moans, and I get even harder.
I’m tempted to warn her again, reminding her that once I lay my body against hers and pry open her walls with my bulging tip, I won’t be able to stop. Then I look into her eyes and see the readiness—the sassiness warring with her nerves.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”
She whimpers as I lie atop her, holding myself up with one hand as I reach between our bodies with the other. I massage her breasts on the way down, softly playing with her nipples. Shivering, she claws her hands over my back.