Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Gio kept grunting against my soaked flesh, urging me with his actions to just let go, and God I wanted to, but this selfish part wanted to hold onto these feelings. All I wanted to do was grip his head and shove his face more deeply against my pussy.
“Gio,” I whispered, begged. “I can’t hold off any longer. I need to come.”
“Do you need it, baby?” Gio murmured against my soaked flesh, and I nodded, even if he couldn’t see me. “How much do you want me to make you come, my love?”
I thrashed my head, groaning, moaning, begging. He had to know I was so close to getting off. At this point, I would have done anything to feel that crest of pleasure wash over me, the pleasure only Gio could give me.
“God, yes, Gio. I want it so bad,” I whispered, rising up slightly to look at him down the length of my body at him, at what he did to me.
He was up a bit from between my legs, his eyes locked on me, his mouth glossy from his saliva and my arousal. The look he gave me had my entire body tightening. It was possessive… lustful.
I was his—that what he said without saying it out loud.
I watched in rapt shock as he slid his hands closer to my pussy, placed his thumbs on my lips, and pulled the tender, sensitive flesh apart. And then he leaned in, all the while staring me in the eyes, and ran his tongue up my center.
“Yes, Gio. Yes,” I gasped out at the sensations filling me. He brought his tongue back to my clit and sucked the tiny bud into his mouth, sucking hard, using rhythmic motions that had me grinding myself against him once more. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore and let myself fall back against the desk, papers and pens falling to the ground.
“Come for me,” he murmured against my pussy.
The orgasm that moved through me was intense and heady. It was everything I needed. Gio never stopped sucking on me, but instead intensified the feeling by thrusting a thick finger into my pussy as I writhed.
“Oh yeah. That’s it,” he grunted.
The orgasm seemed to claim me for an eternity, so long that I was losing my mind from how good it felt. I was breathless, dizzy. But no amount of internal begging for my pleasure-filled suffering to end was granted. Gio pulled me up and in close, kissed me hard and possessively, and I melted against him, needing more, so much more.
I’d always need so much from him. I’d always need everything.
“Pyper, God, Pyper, I love you so much,” he whispered against my hair then kissed the top of my head.
I rested my head on his chest. “I love you too, Gio. I love you so much.”
He cupped the back of my head, kissing my crown again.
I pulled back and looked up at his face. He cupped my cheek and just stared at my lips, this heavy-lidded, post-euphoric expression covering his face. Gio leaned in slowly and kissed me, the flavor of us mixing together and moving over my taste buds.
The kiss grew more scorching as the seconds passed, and I knew where this was leading. I smelled myself on him, a heady, musky, but sweet scent that seemed to make what we were doing even more erotic.
I loved this man more than anything else in the world, and I knew he loved me just as fiercely.
“God, even all these years later, you make me feel like a fucking teenager about to come in my pants.”
A shiver raced up my spine at his words. I grinned. “Well, I hope you last, because I plan on going all night long.”
He made this deep noise in the back of his throat. “You’re going to have to control yourself, so you don’t wake up Lizzy.” He was on me a second later, his big body pressed to mine, his mouth on mine.
It was crazy how much things had changed since we first confessed our feelings all those years ago. It was wild that even after all this time the man I loved, my husband, the father of my child, and the one person I knew always had my back, I fell in love with him more every single day. I watched as he played with our daughter, how he was gentle and caring, how he taught her Italian, yet was possessive and protective. He was alpha and territorial, and at the end of the day a real man through and through.
He was mine.
And I was his.