Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
When she fucked me like this, I was in heaven.
When she rocked forward, her tits would move in my face. I would grace them with a kiss before I leaned back and watched her fuck me slowly. Her hands would glide up my chest to my shoulders, and she would use my body as an anchor so she could grind against me harder.
Goddamn.
My hands moved up her thighs, and I gripped her cheeks, squeezing the tight muscle in my palms. I was tempted to finger her asshole, but I suspected that would make me come sooner than I wanted.
Her breathing came out in short spurts, her moans cutting her off from the air that she needed. Her nails dug into me, and her eyes became lidded with intoxication. Our writhing bodies filled the room with the stench of sex.
I wanted to stay like this forever.
She rolled her head back then gripped her tits, squeezing them hard enough to make her wince.
Fuck.
She was slowly slipping away, diving headfirst into an orgasm that would make her toes curl. I’d fucked her enough times to pick up on her shallow breathing, the redness of her chest, and the way she swallowed every few seconds.
My hand moved between her legs, and I pressed my thumb to her throbbing clit. I rubbed it vigorously, making her hips buck automatically. I wanted a woman to enjoy me as much as I enjoyed her, but my primary focus with London was making her feel good. That felt better than having an orgasm. Sex had completely changed her perspective about being stuck with me. Now she needed me, relied on me. If the best way to keep her happy was satisfying her, I was more than happy to oblige.
Instantly, she ground herself against me and lost her breath altogether. Her hand clenched my wrist, and she moaned as the climax hit her. Her cunt tightened around my cock with a gripping force, and she came all over me, her delicious juice drenching my length. “Goddamn, Lovely…” I watched every expression she made, memorizing every detail because she was so stunning. Watching a woman come was always fun, but watching London come was a gorgeous sight. It was hard for me not to blow my load.
She gradually drifted back down to earth, her hips moving slowly over my length. Her breathing eventually returned to normal, and the redness on her chest faded away. She ran her hand through her hair, getting it off her sweaty neck. She had such a curvy figure, perky tits, an hourglass frame, and nice hips. She was so gorgeous it hurt.
Her grip slowly loosened on my wrist. “More.”
My hands returned to her hips, and I clutched her hard. “As many times as you want, Lovely.” It was my pleasure to satisfy this woman. There was nowhere else I’d rather be that night. I didn’t want to call up Sasha or find a woman in a bar. The only woman I wanted to fuck was sitting on my lap at that very moment.
And that didn’t scare me.
My hand moved up the center of her back until I reached the area just below her shoulder blades. I pulled her closer toward me so I could kiss her. My other hand still guided her up and down my length, needing to feel that wet pussy at the exact same time. My tongue circled hers, and the feel of her small mouth made my cock ache to explode. But I kept myself in line, taking my job as her lover very seriously.
I wanted to do this all night.
Losing sleep affected my workday and slowed my productivity. It was difficult for me to pay attention, and I had less energy to work out in the morning. But I wouldn’t change anything because these were the nights I lived for. I was a king in my castle, and this gorgeous woman was my queen.
My scotch queen.
I washed off in the bathroom because I was so sweaty. I didn’t mind the heat during sex, but once we were finished, I needed to feel cool. I pulled on a new pair of boxers and felt the sleep creep behind my eyelids. I had just had a powerful orgasm, pouring my come deep inside my woman, and now I was ready for bed.
I returned to the bed and saw her lying on her side of the bed, facing the window with her back to me. That was how she always slept, never crossing the invisible line in the center of the bed. She didn’t snore, but I could tell when she was sleep. Her breathing was different, deep and gentle.
I got under the sheets and felt my eyes close immediately. With a bed this big, there was plenty of space for both of us. We never crossed paths in the middle of the night. Her legs didn’t graze mine, and my hand never came into contact with hers.