Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Gabriel,” I moan, and he chuckles.
“Be quiet, Sweetheart.” He nips my earlobe. “No one gets to hear you moan my name but me.” I move my hips to meet his thrusts, wishing I could open my legs more. “You are dripping down my hand. Tell me who you're wet for,” he growls. “Say who makes you this wet.”
“You,” I pant. “Only you.” I close my eyes as my pussy comes all over his fingers.
“That’s right, Sweetheart, only me,” he says, moving in and out so fast that I have to bite down on my bottom lip or I’ll fucking scream. That’s how good this is. By the time he lets me go, I swear I’m panting as if I just finished an hour of spin class. He slides his fingers out of me, bringing his hand up. “Taste yourself on me.” He rubs his wet fingers that were just inside me on my lower lip. “Taste how good you taste.” I take his fingers between my teeth before sucking them both into my mouth. I suck his fingers like I would suck his cock, my tongue twirling over them until there is nothing left. “Not fair,” he says before he takes his fingers out of my mouth and kisses me, sucking my tongue into his mouth. “You are going to be on my tongue all night long.” I try to focus on his words, but my eyes are on his lips. “When you look down the bar tonight and see me licking my lips, it’ll be me licking your taste off my lips.” He moves my panties back in place before pulling my pants back up and buttoning them. I tuck my shirt back in. “Don’t make plans tomorrow,” he tells me. “I’m taking you out.”
“Is that so?” I retort. “I’ll agree to that under one condition.” He looks at me while my hand comes up to cup his cock, which is harder than ever, rubbing my palm over it up and down. “Come home with me tonight.”
16
GABRIEL
“Okay.” I walk down the stairs, putting my shirt on. “You have one hour, and I’ll be back to get you.” I look in the kitchen and find it empty. “Sweetheart,” I call her by the nickname I gave her and can’t stop using.
“I’m right here.” She comes around the corner from the living room. “I like to look out the window when I have my coffee in the morning.” She’s wearing a robe she slipped on after sitting on my face right before I showered. Her hair is piled on her head as she holds her cup of coffee in both hands.
“You going to be ready in thirty minutes?” I wait for her to walk to me, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“That depends.” She looks up at me, and I bend to kiss her lips. When she walked into the bar last night, I wanted to do two things. I wanted to shut down the bar and toss everyone else out, and then when I saw my cousin flirting with her, I almost throat punched him. What I did do was drag her to my office and finger-fuck her, then she spent the rest of the night sitting on the stool right where I was working. We ended the night with her moaning my name over and over again, and I have to say, it was one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time.
“What does it depend on?”
“Well, are you taking me out to a black-tie dinner?” She tries to hide the fact she wants to burst out laughing. “Or are you taking me to ride a horse?”
“No to the first one”—I shake my head—“and maybe to the second one, but that might be later.”
“Okay, I need to know what to wear.” She gets on her tippy-toes and kisses my neck before whispering, “And do I need to wear panties or just toss those to the side?”
My fingers dig into her hips. “Colson will be with us.” Her eyes go big. “So it’s a good idea to put those panties on.”
She steps out of my arms, avoiding looking at me while walking back into the kitchen and putting her mug in the sink. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finally says, turning to look at me.
“And why is that?” I try not to be offended that she doesn’t want to meet my son.
“It’s just…” She tries to think of the words.
“It’s just that all we are is fuck buddies,” I fill it in for her, ignoring the way those words feel like bile in my mouth. “Trust me, we both know that this isn’t going to go anywhere.” My neck feels like someone took an iron rod and branded me. “You are here for two weeks.”