Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He doesn’t ask. He just carries me, my legs wrapped around his waist, down the hall … and into the dark of the bedroom.
I’ve never been carried by a man before—at least, not like this, not all the way to a bed, not with my heart hammering so hard I’m sure I could power a small village off the voltage in my chest. Jack’s arms are iron around my legs, one palm splayed at the small of my back, the other holding my ass so tightly my dress nearly rides up to my waist. I should be mortified at how much I’m enjoying this, but the sound I make when he bumps my shoulder against the hallway wall is one of pure feminine need, dying to be claimed by a powerful male animal.
“Sweetheart,” he rasps. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. I got you.”
The bedroom is everything I’d expect: monastic, neat, efficient, but big enough to land a drone in. The bed is a king, the comforter a hard-wearing navy, the sheets tucked with military precision. There’s no clutter, just a battered nightstand and, in the corner, a black standing locker with a padlock. I wonder what’s in there—guns, maybe, or flight suits, or secrets.
Jack drops me on the mattress like he’s making a point, and comes down after in an instant, pinning me with his body weight. The kiss is hot and greedy, my hands clawing at his shirt, his tongue all the way in my mouth, wet, possessive, and perfect.
“I want you naked,” he growls.
I oblige, or try to, but he’s already peeling my dress up and over, baring my bra and panties in one smooth motion. He yanks the straps down, exposing my breasts, and cups the ivory orbs in his hands, thumbs tracing my pink nipples until they’re tight and throbbing.
“Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” he says, eyes going dark.
He isn’t gentle, not even close. He licks and sucks at my tits, one then the other, alternating pressure until I’m squirming under him, moaning like I’m on camera. But this isn’t a performance because there is no audience, no tips, and no likes. It’s just me, this man, and the thick, wild energy of primal need.
He pulls back for a second, breathing hard. “I want to see you,” he says. “Lie back, baby, and spread your legs.”
I prop myself up on my elbows, hair loose and wild. I let him gaze over every inch of me on display—big tits, wide hips, thighs that don’t quit, belly that’s soft but strong. He stares like he’s memorizing the view.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, and I go warm inside at the adoration.
Jack strips next, fast and efficient. His shirt goes first—shoulders broad, arms cut, chest dusted with a perfect amount of dark hair. The scar I noticed on his hand is nothing compared to a white slash down his left ribs, old but still angry-looking. Did I see it before? I suppose I must have, but I was so caught up in the quick furtiveness of our previous encounters that I didn’t notice. But now, I want to touch it, and do, running my finger down the ridge. He shivers.
“Got that in the line of duty?” I whisper.
He grins. “Got that falling off a motorcycle. Shhh, don’t tell anyone.”
He’s already hard, cock bulging through his boxers. He shucks them off in one move, and oh my god, but he’s huge. I’ve literally fucked this dick before, but I swallow, eyes going wide because seeing it again makes me nervous. The ten inches are stiff and thick, with glorious veins bulging along the left and right sides.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
He notices, smirks, and guides my hand to that massive, dripping shaft. “You know what to do, sweetheart. You’ve seen this movie before.”
I do. I wrap my fingers around him, stroking slow, loving the way it jumps in my hand. I squeeze, twist, rub my thumb over the leaking tip. He hisses in pleasure, head dropping to my shoulder.
“God, you’re sexy,” he grits out.
I smile, and then I do what I always do on camera when I want to really drive the crowd wild—I lean in, lick the tip, and take him into my mouth, just a bit, just to tease. But Jack isn’t a passive customer hidden behind a screen. He fists my hair and pushes deeper, making me take more, and more, until I’m gagging a little, spit slicking my chin.
“Good girl,” he growls. “Just like that.”
I suck and slobber, loving the taste of him, the heat, the sheer masculinity. I moan around his dick, making him twitch. I cup his balls, thinking to make him climax like this, but he pulls me off, breathing hard.
“Not yet,” he says. “I want to be inside you when I come.”