Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
She takes hold of me, running her hand up and down my shaft. I suck in a breath at the spiking pleasure.
“Careful, Foster,” she says with a smirk. “Don’t scare the otters, you said.”
“If you think they haven’t seen us mating before—” Before I can finish that sentence, she slides down, pumping my dick, and my whole heart stalls.
The first two times were heaven.
This time, it’s heroin.
Pure, undiluted pleasure pulsing through my veins like a drug.
I let her take her sweet time, feeling me, adjusting her little fingers to my size.
Some women find it harder to even fit me.
Not my Dess.
She begs with her hips, stroking my length, and only stops when I’m finally pushing inside her, loving how I can feel my last eruption in her wetness.
“Oh, God,” she breathes.
She laughs a little, leaning down until her forehead rests against mine.
“Yeah. Stay for a second.” I run my hands along her hips, her ass, lifting her up and squeezing.
“Why?”
“So I don’t fucking come in you already. It’s been twice in twelve hours and it shouldn’t be a risk, but it is. That’s what you do to me, Miss Destiny.”
She blushes as I kiss her and softens, so pliant and easy and so fucking sexy I’m losing whatever’s left of my mind.
The first thrust is good.
The second, divine.
The third makes me a starving beast, especially when her plush lips part and I hear her say it.
“Shepherd.”
I push into her again, moving her until she’s at just the right angle, the best where I reach deep inside her, where I can feel her squeeze around my entire length.
I rub her clit, intent on blowing her apart in ways she never imagined.
Her nails dig at my shoulder like she knows it, but I don’t let myself go too fast this time.
I want her to lose it.
I want to feel her come on my cock again before I blow.
I want to destroy her and put her back together again.
Her breath comes shorter, faster, and I feel her little pussy fluttering around me.
“That’s right, Dess.” I press with my thumb, rubbing harder, cutting swift circles around her clit, though it’s about all I can do to remember to move my hips and my thumb independently.
My focus slips away with every stroke, even faster after I send her crashing over the ledge the first time.
Destiny comes hard, pulsing around my cock, pleading for me to join her.
Not yet.
Not fucking yet.
And I know—I know—that whatever ugly, messy disaster happens next, I’ll never forget the way she moves to straddle me, her hair beautifully messy, falling in well-fucked tangles on both sides of her face and her blue-green eyes half-closed and dazed with pleasure.
“Here’s your chance to wow me, woman. Ride me as hard as you want, all the way home,” I whisper, crashing my hand against her ass.
It’s all the encouragement she needs.
Her mouth parts with surprise.
The pressure at the base of my balls builds like a brewing storm.
“Shepherd,” she whispers, bracing her hands against my chest and swaying, finding the perfect spot inside her, and fuck, fuck it feels so good.
I’m done for.
“Shepherd,” she gasps. “Shepherd!”
“Come for me, Destiny. Need to feel you first.”
She obeys magnificently.
And all I can see are stars.
She tosses her head back, biting down on her lip so she doesn’t belt her screams into the wild, and her body shudders with the raw force of her orgasm hitting like a hammer.
I feel the way she squeezes my cock, so tight my vision goes, and there’s no holding back.
Growling with delight, I release inside her, vaguely aware of birds launching from the trees as the whole universe becomes a mundane backdrop to our perfect wrong.
12
A Little Heartache (Destiny)
I can’t believe it’s over.
Even though I guess that’s a grim exaggeration.
I still have my life, my work, and a half-grown puppy who always chases away the sad by licking my face. Molly noses in, coming in fast and furious until I need to push her away.
Yeah, nothing truly important is over, I suppose.
Nothing meant to last.
Just enough to leave my heart hanging like a deflated balloon in my chest, heavy with bittersweet memories.
But that’s the thing about memories...
What happened wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things.
So what if I had the best time of my life with a man I’ll barely see again?
So what if we had gravity-defying sex at least eight times over two long days and he left me deliciously worn out?
Thank God for the private charter boat picking us up for the return trip, or else I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have made the kayak trip home with jelly for muscles.
Eight times.
And every single second was indescribable.
Shepherd just has this way of making it feel different every time.
He doesn’t just bust out the same three moves in a different order.
We were tender, fast, furious, slow, gentle—and everything he did made me feel cherished.