Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Me letting you bring me chocolate cake in bed is not me letting you win,” I said, pointing at him. “It merely means I need chocolate cake.”
Kip nodded soberly.
“I know you, Fiona Owens. I didn’t expect a victory so soon.”
Kip wasn’t asleep when I burst into his room at midnight.
I expected him to be.
He got up before dawn and worked manual labor all day. And that wasn’t counting all the cooking and cleaning he did around this place. Oh, and carrying around the weight of his guilt and masculine concern. Yeah, I expected that to be fucking tiring.
But he wasn’t sleeping. He was propped up in bed, watching TV. His eyes went to me the second the door opened.
I was surprised he didn’t point a gun at me or something, he was wound so tight. I was wound pretty tight too.
Which was why I was barging into his bedroom at midnight. Naked.
Kip’s expression changed from surprise to hunger in a split second.
I didn’t hesitate before crossing the distance between the door and the bed. “To be clear, this isn’t because I forgive you,” I said, crawling onto the bed and yanking the covers back.
Kip didn’t fight me on the covers, and he let me expose his muscled body in nothing but underwear.
My fucking mouth watered. I yanked at his underwear angrily, freeing his cock so he let out a hiss of pleasure.
“This is because I am pregnant and full of hormones not entirely under my control,” I explained, straddling him.
Kip’s hands landed on my hips, steadying me.
His cock was already hard when I brushed myself against it.
“I need to be fucked,” I said, breathing heavily. “That’s all this is.”
“Okay, babe,” Kip said, hands going to my newly engorged tits.
I let out a gasp when his fingers found my nipples, which were sensitive as all fuck currently. A nice change from the pain I felt from merely letting the fabric of my tee brush over them.
“Don’t call me babe,” I hissed, reaching down to position his cock against where I was soaking wet and fucking desperate.
Then I seated myself fully. No fucking around. No foreplay. I sure as shit didn’t need it. And I didn’t need any time for me to second-guess my decision, for reason to come back. I did not reason. I needed an orgasm.
I almost came right then and there. It wasn’t like I’d been depriving myself sexually. I was getting my money’s worth from my vibrator, which was top-of-the-line. But I was left lacking. I needed this. Needed fullness.
“This is because you have a cock,” I breathed, riding him. “Because you’re handy. Because I’m unfortunate enough to be married to you.”
Kip grasped my hips, letting me dictate the rhythm. “Whatever you say,” he replied, his voice thick, deep, impossibly masculine, and impossibly sexy.
“No more talking.” I smooshed my finger against his lips and kept riding him, my body electrified.
“Okay, Fiona,” he gritted out, cords in his neck tight, his eyes wild with hunger. With pleasure.
“That’s talking,” I growled, my voice no longer sounding like my own.
Then the first wave took over. Pleasure. Unbearable, beautiful, world-shattering pleasure. My body was more sensitive, more responsive, more alive than it had been… ever.
I gave in to it, gave in to him, letting myself fall off the edge of the cliff, giving myself to Kip.
He let out a strangled roar a handful of seconds—minutes?—later, communicating he was giving himself to me too.
My body sagged against his, my limbs leaden as I let go of all the tension I’d been holding in for months.
But I didn’t get a moment of respite.
Kip, it seemed, was done letting me take charge. He lifted me up and onto my side—impressive and smooth since I barely noticed it happening. To be fair, I was in a post-orgasm haze. He probably could’ve loaded me into a sheep truck and sent me off to Mexico and I barely would’ve noticed.
He situated me on my side, slipping inside again, still hard. I gasped at the new angle, the way it electrified my sensitive nerve endings.
“You think I’m done with you?” Kip growled against my neck.
He slammed into me, hand on my breast, tweaking my nipple.
I cried out.
“Oh, babe, we’re far from fuckin’ done,” he promised. “I’ve got a lot to make up for. And if I remember correctly, my wife has a greedy pussy.”
Kip did remember correctly. And he did all that was promised.
He made up for a whole fucking lot.
Almost everything.
Almost.
I hadn’t planned on sleeping in Kip’s bed. In fact, I’d specifically planned not to sleep in his bed. It was just supposed to be sex, me scratching an itch just enough to sate my need and get my ass to sleep.
Except I hadn’t realized how deep that need ran. Nor did I understand how much more sensitive and more responsive I was now than I had been… ever. And Kip was very eager to please. Whether he felt guilty about everything or was just as horny as I was, I didn’t know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was once was not enough. The first time was both of us desperately joining after months of pent-up need. It was quick, dirty, and frantic. The second time was slightly less quick, still pretty frantic, and equally as intense. The third time was when we both became human enough to slow it down. Well, Kip was the one who slowed it down.