Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Huh,” is grunted out in obvious bewilderment. “Really?”
“Animals were always nicer to me than people,” I quietly confess, doing my best to smile. “They didn’t make fun of me for always knowing the answer or reading really big books about pattern recognition or being able to see things that aren’t technically there.” Bouncing my shoulders appears right before a heavy sigh. “They were just…kind to me…so I wanted to do something to be kind to them.”
Without another word, Slater uses both of his hands to cup mine, knocking the markers back to the couch. Rather than pry for more information about those particular moments or other emotional scars, he lovingly brings my fingers to his lips. Plants a kiss on each set of knuckles. Lowers them back to my lap and strokes them while looking affectionally into my eyes for what feels like forever. Finally, in a volume just above a whisper he declares, “You can do anything you wanna do in this life or the next, and I’ll always be here to love and protect you through it. Understood, Angel Cake?”
It's my turn to coyishly nod. “Understood, Cowboy.”
And that, ladies and gents, is what makes me the real winner of the day.
Chapter 8
Slater
We’re gonna be late.
I know we’re gonna be late.
We’re gonna be late and get shitty parking and miss watching warmups, but I don’t care.
I mean I should care.
I know I should care.
It’s just impossible to give a shit about anything other than having my woman on her back, head hanging off the side of the mattress, deep throating me in an almost acrobatic fashion I can hardly fathom. Watching my dick repeatedly slide down the length of Arley’s throat like it was tailormade for the damn thing, while her tits are spilling out of the bra I pulled slightly down just so that I could play with her dark, hard nipples during the whole thing is more than a good reason not to give a fuck about being late to my brother’s game.
Kolby’ll understand.
And if he doesn’t?
Fuck him.
She wanted to put her mouth on my cock.
What kind of gentleman would I be had I denied her something so simple?
Roughly cupping both boobs at once causes Arley to groan, treating my cock to ball clenching vibrations that have my toes damn near scuffing the wood beneath them. The increase in constrictions only pushes me to give her delicious rack even more attention.
Harsher squeezes.
Tighter tugs of her nipples.
Faster executions of both.
Sloppy gargling sounds reverberate all around our bedroom effortlessly drowning out the faint Nicky Jam tunes as they tempt me into forgetting about longevity and her pleasure and plead with me to just fucking come already. Drops of dribble drip down to the tops of my feet drawing my attention to where my dick is practically ripping her mouth in two. Seeing such a sexy yet cruel sight has the savagery she begs to be treated with ripping off its chains.
Abandoning her full tits is followed by me gliding my palms down her stomach.
Curling my fingers to leave behind bruises in my wake.
Using one hand to break past the barrier of her black yoga pants while the other pins her thigh to the mattress.
Wetness wastes no time soaking the digits heading to her entrance, and those same digits waste no time thrusting themselves inside. Screams from both ends of her body are instantaneously felt resulting in my own frame shaking from the force. An intoxicating, burning sensation mauls itself up the back of my calves and thighs and ass, forcing my head to lull backwards as barbarous grunts hit the ceiling one by one, declaring that I’m too close to busting a nut to be stopped.
Louder gagging encourages faster movements.
Finger fucking gets so ferocious and frenetic that it spurs my dick into doing the same motions.
Muffled screams suddenly become attached to every sopping wet contraction, and I callously gnarl, “Fucking swallow for me like the dirty little cowgirl you are.”
One last screech shatters both of our resolves in tandem. Sweltering streams shoot straight into her throat, commanding she choke down every drop of cum, yet her hips greedily gravitate off the bed, milking my pumping fingers, clenching them so hard they damn near cramp from the pressure. My mind reels around and around and around with every blissful thrum until my eyes blur and the ache in my back forces me to break away.
The instant there’s space between us the love of my life sucks in a giant gasp prompting me to scramble closer and ask in panic, “Fuck, Angel Cake, did I hurt you?!”
“Yes,” is airily declared; however, it’s swiftly followed by her rolling over onto her stomach and announcing, “but I fucking loved it.”
Groans of hunger and frustration alike lead to me collapsing down on the bed beside her. “And here I thought we were just gonna be a little late…”