Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
‘Fuck!’ he shouts, releasing my hands and cupping my arse, peeling me away from the window and turning. He carries me across the room and holds me with one arm under my bum as he swipes the contents of the desk from the surface, then lowers me onto the hard wood, coming down with me so as not to break our connection. I yelp, squirming across the polished wood as he jacks me forward and rises to standing, taking hold of my thighs. My hands go above my head and grip the edge of the desk.
His teeth clench as he withdraws, his head dropping back but his eyes remaining on mine. He yanks me up and down the desk, our sweaty skin slapping, our shouts and cries of pleasure loud and chaotic.
Yet I still hold back on letting the looming orgasm claim me.
The desk is creaking under the force, and just when I think it might give under the strain, his arm slides under my back and pulls me up. The front of my body crashes with his, and my shout is loud. I cling to him as he takes reverse steps and then falls to his back on the bed with me straddling him. ‘Fuck me, Annie,’ he demands, his voice like gravel, full of hunger and sex. ‘Fuck me hard.’
I don’t delay. I’ve had my order. My hips kick in and I rock back and forth, my palms braced into the hardness of his chest. His fingers claw into my thighs, his face strained. ‘Oh shit,’ he groans, his hips now flexing up and meeting my rhythm.
The sight of him, the effect I’m having on him, it’s addictive. I’m spent but energised, my body doing things without thought. Then I’m moving again. His stomach muscles tense and he sits up, edging us to the side of the bed with me on his lap. He guides my legs behind his back so I’m wrapped around him, and his hands find my hips, lifting and then pulling me back down precisely on an exhale of shaky breath.
I yelp, the new position sending him so deep. My head goes limp, but I refuse to lose his gaze as he guides me ferociously, slamming me down onto his lap repeatedly. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to fight off my release. He’s challenging me on so many levels. ‘Jack,’ I gasp, my head falling forward, our foreheads meeting.
He senses my struggle and flips me around, taking me to my back and re-entering quickly. I scream. He roars. I’m in pieces, almost frightened by the potential of the orgasm that’s going to strike me. It’s going to be powerful. He comes down to his forearms, my thighs clamp around his waist, and he takes us on that final stretch towards explosion.
He nods, and I nod right back. He looks in pain as he takes the last few strokes, his face twisting, as I’m sure mine is. The veins in his neck bulge, his cock swells, and I’m shoved over the edge, screaming as the nerves in my clitoris explode.
My world goes blank, my body lax, and Jack collapses on top of me, pinning me to the mattress as we both splutter and gasp for breath. And as if it’s instinctive, my arms come up around his back and hold him to me, pulling his heavy body closer while we ride the waves of pleasure ripping through our bodies. His chest is rolling atop mine and his skin’s wet under my hands on his back.
Opening my eyes, I look up to the ceiling of the hotel room, my hearing fuzzy with the sounds of our breathlessness. Jack is breathtaking in more ways than one.
The silence is comfortable; neither of us is in a rush to break it, and I begin to wonder if he’s doing what I’m doing right now. Is he trying to fathom what just happened? Is he quietly trying to wrap his mind around the extreme madness of the incredible moment we just shared? My thoughts begin to race as I absentmindedly trace small circles across his back.
I’m interrupted when he chuckles softly, squirming above me. Despite myself, I smile. ‘You ticklish?’
He lifts his torso on a shudder and looks down at me. His eyes. God, his eyes are sparkling madly. ‘Not usually. But your touch seems to do things to me.’
I hold back from telling him that the feeling is mutual, though I sense he sees it in my eyes when he reaches up to my face and draws a perfect line down my cheek to my chin, smiling as he does. He looks thoughtful, and I’m desperate to know what his thoughts are. ‘Architect Annie,’ he murmurs, casting his gaze to mine. ‘I’m glad I didn’t carry on walking home.’ He dips and pushes a sweet kiss onto my lips, stealing my breath once again. ‘You’ve been a welcome distraction from real life.’