Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
She smiled through her tears, and the brave beauty of it wrapped around his heart like a fist and squeezed. He lifted a hand to her face, wiping the tears from one wet cheek.
“I hate it when you cry.”
“I’ve turned into the proverbial watering pot this week. After you left, I allotted myself one day to cry. Compartmentalizing, like I’ve always done. Only it didn’t work this time. Every time I slowed down and had a moment to think and remember, more pain would come. Along with the tears. I couldn’t function like that. That’s when I decided to come here. I needed some kind of…I don’t know. Closure, maybe? And I do think that I needed to hear some of what you’d said that night, ugly though it may have been. I’d kept you out. And I thought, maybe if I could find a way to let you in, we could figure everything out.”
He planted a soft, achingly sweet kiss at the corner of her mouth and she lifted her wet eyes to his and smiled. A small, tremulous, lovely thing.
“I missed you, Smith,” she said softly.
He groaned and kissed her again, deeper and longer this time. His hand moved to her still-damp hair, wrapped a handful of the silken strands around his fist, and gently tugged her head back to give him better access to her succulent mouth.
She moaned, the sound a surrender, and parted her lips. He suppressed a surge of triumph at the acquiescence, urging himself to be gentle, go slow, give comfort rather than take passion.
But the already tenuous grip he had on his control slipped completely when one of her soft, capable hands slid beneath hem of his T-shirt and found his bare skin.
He grunted in surprise at the tentative contact and then groaned, low and long, when that impudent hand slid up over his abs and toward his chest.
He breathed a reverent “fuck” into her mouth when she scissored one of his hard nipples between her index and middle fingers and squeezed. She knew exactly how sensitive they were.
He urged her closer, never lifting his lips from hers, and readjusted their position until she was straddled across his lap, knees digging into the firm seat on either side of his thighs. She eagerly ground her heat against his aching cock and he bucked violently in response against her, nearly unseating her.
His palms splayed over her narrow hips to both anchor her in place, as well as slow down her eager movements. He ignored her protesting moan when he curtailed her movements and continued to voraciously devour her mouth.
Embracing Smith like this, especially after the highly emotional and intense last half hour, felt exactly right. Kenny needed this. They both did. A release from all the tension and complex emotions. Sex would likely complicate matters between them even more, but right now, she didn’t care much.
She needed this. Needed him.
Her right foot was weighed down by the stupid cast and she impatiently struggled to undo the Velcro straps with one hand without breaking their kiss.
Smith laughed, the muffled sound swallowed by Kenny, and shifted his head back to give them both some breathing room.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding hoarse and dazed and amused all at the same time.
“Help me get this damned boot off,” she muttered, panting as she tugged at the straps with fumbling fingers.
He wrapped an arm around her narrow waist and pulled her closer until her chest was flush against his and her pussy was plastered against the hard ridge of his cock, allowing him easier access to the boot. He pushed her hand aside and made quick work of peeling away enough of the straps to loosen the boot. Gravity did the rest and the boot met the floor with a muted thud.
“You okay?” he asked, his ferociously intent eyes already back on her mouth with all the focus of an obsessed man.
“Hmm?” Her dazed brain couldn’t quite make sense of the hoarse question.
“Foot?” He didn’t seem much more capable than she at coherent speech or thought.
And that was okay. Kenny was all talked out for now.
“It’s fine,” she promised, leaning in, wanting his mouth on hers again. But he drew his head back, remaining just out of her reach.
“Smith,” she implored, her voice low and terse with frustration.
“I don’t know how far, or where, we should take this, Kenna,” he confessed. His face was flushed, lips swollen, eyes smoldering and heavy-lidded. That, combined with the very hard cock throbbing against her wet, spread pussy was giving her clear signals of exactly where they should take this.
So his hesitation confused her.
“Just throwing this out there,” she murmured, her voice thick and fractured. “But I’m thinking you put your penis into my vagina and slam it around a bit until we both come?”