Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
A throaty moan escaped me as my hips started rocking against his palm, my body crying out for more.
“So fucking wet for me,” he murmured against my ear, making my walls tighten around his fingers as they thrust.
“Please,” I begged, my body burning with need.
“I’m working on it, mouse,” he said, sounding amused as he pressed my clit a little harder.
“No,” I whimpered, too far gone to think about what I was saying. “I want you.”
“You have me,” he said.
“No,” I whined again, rocking harder against his touch, but it wasn’t giving me what I needed. “I need…”
“I know what you need,” he said, teeth nipping my ear. “Just relax.”
Ugh.
Why couldn’t he understand?
“No, I need you… here,” I said, pressing my hand against his, pushing his fingers in deeper.
That seemed to get his attention.
That rumbling sound I was beginning to love so much moved through him again.
“I told you we—“
“Please,” I cut him off, my voice rough with need. “Please,” I said again, smaller, sweeter.
Whatever was left of his control snapped.
His hand slid out of my pants as he pushed me to stand in front of him, then reached for the waistbands of my pants and panties, and yanked them down, waiting for me to step out of my shoes, then them, before sinking his fingers into my hips, and pulling me back down on his lap, this time straddling him.
“You need my cock that bad?” he asked, his hand going to his waistband, undoing his button and zipper, then reaching inside to free his cock.
Hard.
Straining.
So thick it almost looked painful.
“Yes,” I whispered, that ache inside intensifying just thinking of his hardness inside of me.
“Then come here and take it,” he demanded, holding his cock at the base, then urging me closer.
There was a moment of uncertainty. But then he was rubbing the head of his cock between my lips, tapping my clit, then moving back down, pressing against me, just waiting for me to take him in.
“Come on,” he urged, fingers tightening on my hip. “Let me watch you take me in,” he demanded.
My body moved on instinct then, lowering down onto him, feeling him slide in, deliciously thick, pressing so deep it almost ached, this position changing the sensation entirely.
Renzo rumbled, his head falling back on the chair. “You look so fucking good taking it all,” he said, rocking his hips up into me until the need to move was so overpowering that I overcame any uncertainty, and listened to my body until I found the motion that felt best.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured as I rode him, reaching for the hem of my shirt, and pulling it up and off. My bra went next. And then his hands were on me, teasing, twisting, rolling, as my movements got faster, more desperate. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, burying his face between my breasts, taking a deep breath. “You feel so fucking good riding me.”
His lips were on me next. Sucking. Licking. Teeth grazing.
“That’s it,” he said, teasing my other nipple, then lifting his head as my moans got louder and louder, as my fingers dug into his arms. “Make yourself come around my cock,” he demanded, starting to thrust up into me a little harder.
The orgasm started to crest, making me cry out his name as the waves crashed through me over and over.
“Fuck,” Renzo groaned. “Fuck, that feels good,” he said, thrusting through it, then suddenly yanking me back and off of him, the loss of him a pang I didn’t quite understand as he came, the heat of his release spilling across my stomach and thigh.
I leaned forward, burying my face in his neck, not wanting this moment to end so quickly as it always seemed to. Just wanting to stay close with him for as long as he would allow me.
I was surprised how, after a short hesitation, his hands started to move over me. Drifting gently up and down my spine, over my hips, back up, massaging the back of my neck, then sifting into my hair. Before, finally, starting to rub little circles across my scalp.
“Keep making noises like that,” he said, making me aware of the little mewling sounds escaping me, “and I’m gonna have to fuck you again,” he said.
Like a warning.
But I kind of wanted it as a promise.
Because I was pretty sure I could never get enough of Renzo Lombardi fucking me.
The stupid alcohol still coursing through my bloodstream, though, had other ideas. And it wasn’t long before I started to drift in and out of consciousness, lulled by his soft touch, the warm strength of him below me, and his heartbeat against me.
“Let’s get you to bed, mouse,” he murmured, seeming to talk to himself, though, as his arms went around me, then he got to his feet.
My legs went around him, wrapping his lower back as he turned and walked through the apartment, then up the stairs.