Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
"Can you see—"
"Your cunt?"
"Blake!" I don't know why the word shocks me. I've lived in Europe for the past few years, and I read it in my romance books all the time.
"Wife," he responds before his hand comes down on my ass. A loud gasp leaves me. This smack is harder than the others, but it still doesn't hurt. It does, however, have a straight line right to my clit. Not sure how that's possible. Faulty wiring in my brain? "Did my wife enjoy that?" His hand rubs the spot before pushing my shirt partially up to run his fingers along my spine, making a shiver shimmer down it. Goose bumps break out across my skin. "Answer," he orders as another smack comes down, this time to the other cheek.
"Yes!" The word rips from me before I can even try to fight the response.
“Are you wet?” His tone isn’t smug. No, it's thick and filled with lust. I love the idea of turning him on. I shouldn't, but I’m not going to lie to myself. But I don’t have to respond, either.
“Another month off to let me check for myself.” My stomach quivers. I’m selling myself, and it’s freaking turning me on.
“Two.” I press my lips together, thankful he’s behind me and can’t see my expressive face.
“Deal,” he agrees. I won that one. I have a small sense of victory. “Spread your legs farther.”
“Another month.” I try my luck.
“No deal.” His hands grip my inner thighs; I swear they freaking engulf them, and he yanks my legs open for himself. I hear a moan come from him, and I can't stop myself from peering over my shoulder to steal a peek. Especially when his hands drop from my thighs, taking the warmth with him.
My sex is throbbing, knowing he's staring at it and dying for him to touch me there. What I see has me biting my own lip to not moan. Blake has one hand braced on the counter, his other rubbing the front of his slacks, the hard outline of his cock showing.
“My sweet untouched flower. Made just for me.” He leans in, and I watch as he breathes me in. I have to fight not to close my legs to try and put pressure on the ever-present throb. His tongue comes out, licking his lips. “Bet you taste as sweet as you smell.”
“Deal.” What the hell! I scold myself. I was supposed to negotiate, but it doesn’t matter because my mind is momentarily blank as Blake doesn’t hesitate to bury his face between my thighs.
It’s too much and not enough at the same time. The amount of pleasure I feel is all-consuming. Any and all rational thought goes out the window. I surrender to him, allowing myself to enjoy this moment.
He licks and sucks as though he’s been starved for me. I can’t help the moans that leave me. His mouth latches on to my clit. “Blake!” I cry out his name. My vision blurs, and the orgasm rocks me to my core. Holy hell. Never in my life have I experienced anything close to this.
“Another,” he demands, his tongue beginning to circle my overly sensitive clit. I try to close my legs, but he pins me in place.
“I can’t,” I tell him.
“You will,” he demands, his mouth dipping lower, his tongue now pushing inside of me.
“I need…” I don’t even know what I’m asking for at this point, but what he’s doing now feels like the sweetest torture.
“I know what my wife needs. She just needs to be reminded of that.” With that, he pushes a finger inside of me. “So fucking tight.”
“Blake, please.” I plead with him. My body is on fire, his words igniting this reaction. I try to push back so that I can get the relief I so desperately need, but Blake holds me in place while he continues to work his fingers in and out of me.
I’m about to really start begging, but he shows me mercy, his mouth coming back to my clit. His tongue circles it a few times before he once again sucks it into his mouth. I go off again instantaneously. This orgasm hits me like a damn tidal wave, knocking me out for the count.
Chapter Eight
BLAKE
“How many months for my virginity?” Truly's tone is tart and hinted with anger. I’ll take anger. It’s better than not giving a shit.
It’s a tempting offer to take her up on. Would it make me an asshole? Yes, but I’m barely hanging on. Years of only thinking of her while fucking my hand have done that to me.
I suppose I can’t say I don’t know exactly what took over when I bent her over the kitchen island and buried my face between her lush thighs because that had been one of my many fantasies of her. When all you have is time, you’ll think up all kinds of shit.