Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Instead, I stare unabashedly in the reflection as he tugs on his cock, his other hand cupping his balls. His palm moves faster, his fist sliding over the head now, squeezing, then back down to the base. I’m so jealous of his hand. I want it to be my hand, my mouth, me. But I want this even more. I want this movie that he’s not acting in—he is in—to keep playing on the screen in the mirror.
I’ve never been more aroused in my life. He squeezes harder, his hips moving now, rocking, thrusting, and my God, he’s truly fucking his own fist.
I’m liquid. I’m a pool of heat. My skin flames red-hot, and my bones dissolve.
A loud groan echoes from the shower, and it triggers a wave of molten pleasure. The fact that he’s so turned on already is killing me. I jam my palms against the counter, gripping the edge, watching him, craving him, wanting to know what he looks and sounds like when he comes alone while thinking of me.
But tonight, he’s alone with me. His hand shuttles faster, up and down his erection. He still doesn’t meet my gaze, and I love it. I love that he’s showing me what he does when I’m not here.
His lips part.
A harsh breath comes.
A jerk of his hand.
A thrust of his hips.
A visible shudder.
“Jillian.”
My name is a dirty word. I break. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve become a bonfire, and I’m going to burn alive if I don’t get in there with him right now. Swiveling around, I strip in a frenzy, tossing my sundress on the floor along with my shoes, panties, and bra.
He turns to me, his eyes blazing with heat, even in the shadowy light. “Get in here.”
I nod. I’ll do anything he says. He opens the door, and I step into the shower with him. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing. His hand flies over his cock, and I’m on edge. So aroused. So wet. So needy.
His expression is marked with a lust that I want to experience for a long, long time. “You’re gonna make me come.” His voice is a growl.
I’m desperate as I answer, “I want to taste it. I want to taste you. Let me.”
He tips his chin. “Get on your knees.”
In a second, I’m on the floor, my knees digging into the tiles, my hands grabbing his hips, my eyes watching his.
He stares down at me as he jerks his length. “This what you pictured?” His hand is a blur. His words are rough.
“Yes, but it’s so much better.”
“Fuck, baby. The real thing is so much better with you.” His hand moves faster than I knew it could, and he grunts my name. His next words are one syllable only. Tinged with desire. “Yeah. Now. Fuck.”
He yanks his shaft to my lips and I open, but he doesn’t fill my mouth. He rubs the head over my top lip as he trembles and comes on my lips, rubbing it across my mouth. My tongue flicks out, licking it off, tasting him.
He pants and groans and swears again and again.
Like this is too much for him to take.
Like he can barely comprehend how hard he’s come, how much I want him.
He reaches for my shoulders and pulls me to my feet, wiping his hand across my mouth before he kisses me like a mad, hungry man. As our lips lock, his hand finds its way between my legs where he discovers how insanely wet I am there.
He breaks the kiss, murmuring in my ear, “You’re drenched, baby.”
I nod. I can barely speak now. I only want him to put me out of my misery. My sounds are wanton and wild as he strokes. It won’t take long at all. I’m practically there. He pushes two fingers inside, his thumb rubbing where I want him most, and all the nerve endings in my body sizzle at once, then crackle. An instant and shattering burst of exquisite pleasure overtakes me, and I come on his hand while his lips devour mine.
Afterward, he dries me off, carries me to his bed, finds a condom, and spreads me open once more. I’m still wet and eager for him, and he’s hard again, ready to go.
He sinks inside me, and we screw like the desperate creatures we are. But even as we pant, as we scratch, as we thrust, this time feels different. He brings me closer, wraps his arms tighter around me, lowers his mouth to my ear.
Becomes gentler.
More tender.
Needier.
His words hook into me, surrounding me, warming my soul.
Want you.
Want this.
Wish I could have you again.
He takes me to the edge, talking dirty, talking sweet.
I’ll keep wanting this. I won’t stop wanting you.
Before I can even start to think about what this all means, I’m yanked under by another epic climax. He’s right behind me, flying in this land of ecstatic bliss by my side.