Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” Farrow says, gritting down on his teeth as his arousal barrels through him. Our eyes connect with this love-fueled desire, want, and need.
We’re together. Intimately, territorially, domestically, and lovingly.
This is our home, but we’re hanging onto a dreamlike future that could slip through our fingers. Whisked away like a cotton candy cloud. The family we’re building.
That fact has been silent between us for a while.
In these moments when we’re alone and more vulnerable, I feel this rush up in me. Slight fear, and I just know that being with him has to be enough. In case it all comes crashing down.
Farrow nips my bottom lip, and sweat bubbles up across his muscles, my muscles. We hold each other, and his fingers pulse inside me.
Fuck. I groan against his jaw, and I rub his thick, warm length. Headiness swathes us like we’re swimming in bottomless pools.
“Farrow,” I moan. “Just fuck me, please. Fuck.” Tears crest the corners of my eyes. I harden, my cock standing at attention.
He carefully pulls his fingers out and positions himself against me, kneeling. He lifts my leg over his shoulder, spreading me. I’m not the most flexible guy ever, but I get the job done.
With a hand on his shaft, he guides his erection and fills me achingly slow. My muscles vibrate. I bite down at the pinch, but really, my head is spinning in eagerness and impatience.
Farrow places a palm on my flexed abs. “Relax for me.”
“I am.” I’m not.
I’m just so fucking turned on. Anticipating.
He skims my body and shifts, bringing my other leg up against his chest. My ankles rest on his shoulders. The vulnerability in this position seizes every damn inch of me. Fuck me. I have a hand on my head, the other clutches his waist.
My heart is thrashing in my ribcage. I’m on the ascent and dying for the free-fall. He slides in, and my breath hitches. He quickly leans forward, my thighs still his. Our foreheads press together.
He’s close enough that I clutch onto his biceps. My calves now on either side of his neck.
And he thrusts.
“Holy fuck,” I groan.
Deep, hard, purposeful pumps that roll my eyes back.
“Farrow,” I cry for him. Our breaths unite. Our lips only brushing, groans and breaths too loud and heavy to kiss.
“Fuck, Maximoff.” His jaw tenses, gritting his teeth while arousal pounds into him like he’s pounding into me.
We’re two bodies melding into one. Souls fusing, and he cups my face, our eyes excavating to the core. I’m pinned to the mattress. His arms wrapped around the back of my neck in a tight hold. The peak nears as his thrusts quicken. My cock sliding against his stomach with scalding friction.
He hits the most sensitive spot of nerves, teasing them and building them up towards an eruption. One more second and I’ll—
He goes still. Fuuuuck.
I growl and Farrow silences me with a kiss. He starts back up again, this time slow. Pumping his hips in a rhythm that frustrates every part of me. But it takes less work to ride me to that place again. He quickens his movements. Deepens them. I’m right there.
He thrusts. In.
Out.
In. One more…
He stops again.
“Farrow, I swear to God,” I groan. “Stop edging, man.” Water pricks at the corners of my eyes from being denied a climax.
Farrow eases back into a slow pace. “Stop being so impatient. I’m taking my fucking time with you.”
Fuck.
He does just that. Repeating the process of tormenting me again and again. And when I can’t stand it anymore, when I’m a second away from fisting my own cock, he starts thrusting at a maddening rate. Driving into me so hard that he rises on one foot, lifting my ass with him. The angle sends me off.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” I curse into his bicep, my fingers digging into his back.
He grunts, and the sound of his aroused about-to-come noise sends me over. I release with him, my waist bucking forward, and my cock twitches in absolute relief. He reaches down to stroke me, eking out every bit of pleasure.
We share a few tender moments together. Not moving. Just breathing. Our bodies still flushed up against each other.
He runs a hand through my damp hair, and I trace the inked wings on his neck. Farrow watches me, and then slowly, he eases my legs back down. I stretch them out further, the muscles tight in my calves.
“Fuck,” I whisper with one more deep breath, and I roll onto my side, grabbing the towel beside the mattress to clean up.
He leans over and kisses me on the lips. I can tell he’s assessing me, making sure I’m not cracking open Overthinking for Dummies, apparently my favorite textbook.
I’m good, and I just feel the need to say, “I love you.”
He smiles. “I love you too, wolf scout.” His cell suddenly starts vibrating on the hardwood.