Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
"Oh." Her eyes widen, and then she feels my cock nudging at her entrance and moans. "Oh."
I fuck her slow, saying every ridiculous thing I can think up, just to feel the way she clenches around me when her breath hitches and she moans through a giggle.
Ten stars. Will do again.
As expected, there are paparazzi outside my place, waiting to see if she spent the night. But she doesn't hide on the floorboard, trying not to be seen. She doesn't hide at all.
Instead, she sits up proudly as we drive through the throng, her hand laced with mine.
They probably snap enough pictures of us to make their bosses' heads explode with glee. But it doesn't really matter. We already posted one. She's on my lap on the couch, her lips against my cheek, with my arms around her.
We're Instagram official.
It's the best goddamn day of my life.
There are paparazzi outside her place when we pull up an hour later. We ignore them, pulling into her garage. She's out of my truck before I even have a chance to open the door for her.
"Wait for me next time, Evie."
"What?" She frowns up at me, confusion in her gaze.
"Wait for me to get the door for you next time, baby."
"Oh." Her frown dissolves into the sweetest smile. "Okay."
I groan, scooping her up in my arms just to taste that smile. At least, that's the plan. But then she's in my arms, her legs around my waist, and my plan gets shot all to hell.
I have no idea how I make it up the steps into her living room. I don't even know how I spot the piano in the corner or remember what she said about it… But I do.
"W-what are you doing?" she gasps, her eyes wide and dilated when I drop her in front of it, spinning her around to face it.
"Making your dream come true," I growl. "Where's your sister?"
"Probably at her apartment," she moans, arching back for me.
"Rufus?"
"Still with Everly. That's probably why she's been calling all morning. He's probably driving her nuts."
We're alone. That's all I need to know. I rip her shorts and panties down her legs, leaving her bare from the waist down.
"Spread wide, princess. Let me see how wet you are for me."
She does, gripping the edge of the piano for balance, her ass tilted up for my inspection. Her skin is so fucking soft, I can't resist palming those perfect curves, stroking her until she shudders.
I sink to my knees behind her, my mouth right at her pussy as I tug at my zipper, trying to give my dick a little breathing room. She pushes back, greedy for it.
I oblige, flicking my tongue out to savor the taste I can't get enough of.
Fuck, she's dripping.
I press my tongue inside her, and she gasps, both hands flying to the keys. The piano gives a discordant little clamor in response. She laughs through a moan, twisting to glare at me over her shoulder like she thinks I did it on purpose.
"You're insane," she pants.
I grin against her, nipping at the flesh just below her ass as I slide two fingers inside her. "Play me something, princess."
"What?"
"Play me something," I repeat.
"Are you serious?"
"Deadly."
She grumbles, but her hands find the keys, and she starts to play—a slow, halting version of something that sounds half like a lullaby and half like a pop song. Every time she's almost got the notes right, I curl my fingers, and she shudders, losing the rhythm.
Soon, she's not even playing anymore, just letting her hands collapse onto the keys as I fuck her with my tongue. The piano wails and groans beneath her, every jolt of her hips broadcasting a cacophony of wild sound into the empty house. I want to brand this memory into my brain: Evie with her legs spread wide, trembling under my touch, making music and noise and every other beautiful mess she can.
She's shaking by the time I stand, my chest pressed to her back. My cock is already out, throbbing with every ragged breath she takes. I don't even have to guide myself—the head finds her heat on instinct.
I bury myself to the hilt in a single, desperate thrust.
She gasps, her hands clawing at the black-and-white keys, sending up a triumphant clatter. I set a brutal rhythm, fucking her so hard the piano itself shudders.
She just takes it, moaning, crying out, begging for more.
I tell myself to go slow, to savor it, but my body doesn't listen. It never does, not with her. I lose myself completely, drowning in the feel of her, the scent of her, the sound of her voice, and the music she makes, both accidental and utterly genuine.
She falls forward, her chest pressed to the keys, and the piano blasts a broken chord that vibrates right through her body. Her breath stutters. I can feel the tremor in her thighs, the way her whole body tenses, and I know she's right there.