Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Harder.
Longer.
Hold on until she’s bouncing her body back against the mattress for mercy.
Mercy that’s immediately given to one side by executing the painfully pleasurable action on the other.
More screams fly around the trembling threat, spit slowly leaks along the corners of her lips down her cheek.
Her chin.
Her collarbone.
Groans escape me while I follow the dribble downward fucking her faster as though racing it, determined to be the first across some imaginary finish line. It’s journey heads for the very area I’m yanking, offering itself to the moment, and I helplessly drag it over. Roll it around her peak prior to hunching over to tug at the sensitive area with my teeth instead of my fingers.
Pres comes around my cock on a body shaking scream the second my teeth scrape the area.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” I greedily grumble in between rolling my tongue around. “Do that shit for me again.”
Her body writhes while rushing itself upward to meet me thrust for thrust.
Sucks are oscillated back and forth only being abandoned for savage pounds when her pussy begins to pulsate faster and faster. Focusing on the wetness drenching my dick and my nuts and my sheets damn near has me coming too yet seeing the frosting left to clean up reclaims my attention and my mouth and my devotion.
In a tireless cycle, I devour my girlfriend, littering her in hickeys like they’re confetti and it’s her birthday. Pres’s fingers spend the majority of their time looking for leverage while her voice searches for freedom. The moment doesn’t arrive until orgasm three is trying to pretend its not interested in joining the others. At that point, I sink my teeth into the other side of the baked good and growl into the ferocious fucking. Chomps at the cake cause her to whimper as they mirror the carnal caresses of her sensitive clit. She whips her head back and forth, whining she can’t handle another stroke. Pleading and shuddering and shaking makes enjoying the treat difficult and for some reason the added effort to conquer it on top of her has my cock swelling. Her eyes water from the overstimulation, the overstretching, the overwhelming bliss that’s bowing her back and damn near breaking her curled ankles.
Something about the sight instills fear, enough fear to have me temporarily pull back; however, her tongue shoves away the bit that’s in her way to release an orgasmic, ear-splitting scream, “Ry!”
There’s no stopping myself from coming.
Even if I wanted to – which I don’t – it would be fucking impossible not to bust.
Her pussy unrelenting wrings me dry, drowning itself in blazing bursts, determined to boil us both alive. Our eventual satiation is met on matching sighs that are followed by sweet kisses. Despite being sweaty and sticky and slightly stained from the orange dye, we curl up together with her on her stomach and my fingertips lovingly stroking her shoulder blades.
“Enjoying your birthday?”
I rest my head against the open palm of my bent free arm. “I am now.”
“Rough day?”
That’s putting the shit mildly.
Fuck, just asking about it is sparking the urge for a cigarette.
My silence isn’t taken as the red flag to end the subject like I hoped. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“Wow,” she whispers out, “you didn’t even let the question finish forming.”
“Already knew the answer.”
Without warning, she rolls over, sits all the way up to rest her back against the headboard, and gently pats her leg. “Head.”
“You want some?” I playfully tease on an eyebrow wiggle. “You know I’m always open to giving it.”
She fights the instinct to smirk and sweetly repeats, “Head, Ry.”
An annoyed sigh leaves me as I maneuver myself to rest my head on her leg. Upon my arrival, her fingers begin a slow, relaxing combing that effortlessly calms my nerves back to the level they were post sex.
Damn.
Pretty fucking sure she has cannabis literally coursing through her fingertips with the way I’m peacefully beginning to drift.
“Talk to me, Ry,” my soulmate lovingly encourages.
“Baby, just let it go.”
“No.”
“Now who already knew their answer?” I impishly mock.
“Ryder.”
“Talkin’ about the shit isn’t gonna make me feel better, Pres. It’s just gonna piss me off all over again and then I’m gonna be fucking irritated and wanna smoke and can’t smoke and can’t work out because the fucking gym is closed and-” the words are cut off by a gentle tug to my hair that releases the building tension.
“We’ll get you added onto my gym membership at Gym Life, so you can go whenever you like. It’s open twenty-four hours.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I’m going to. The more positive outlets you have the less likely you are to…fall back into old habits.”
In spite of the fact there’s no maliciousness to her tone, I quietly swear, “I’m never gonna hurt you like that again, Pres.”