Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
He opens my legs wide. “Christ, you’re beautiful,” he growls.
Then he’s between my legs, his breath hot against my core, his hands spreading my thighs, and I’m open, exposed, dripping for him. His tongue dives in, slow, deliberate, licking from my entrance to my clit, and I moan, loud, uninhibited. Oh, the wet sounds of his mouth—sucking, lapping—obscene and yet faultless, filling the room.
“Oh God,” I gasp, my hips grinding against his mouth, his stubble scraping my inner thighs. His fingers slipping inside me, curling, pumping hard, while his tongue flicks my clit, relentless, building a pressure that’s almost too much. I’m thrashing, my head tossing, my voice breaking, “Hugh… Oh God, yes… Don’t stop… please…,” and he doesn’t, his mouth worshipping me, his groans vibrating against my skin, pushing me closer, closer, until I’m teetering on the edge.
He flips me over suddenly, and I gasp out loud. My stomach ends up pressed into the sheets, my ass up, and my hands gripping whatever I can find to anchor myself.
He positions himself behind me, his hands on my hips, and then his cock is brushing my entrance, slick and ready. It feels good but nothing compares to when he enters me. He is slow at first, stretching me, and the burn is so good I moan helplessly.
“Your body was made for my cock,” he growls, his voice a low rumble as my body yields to him, inch by inch.
He’s right. No man has filled and stretched me the way he does. We fit so perfectly that I squirm like a worm and revel in the totally sensuous and taboo sensation of being impaled on my neighbor’s big cock.
Then, he’s fucking me, ramming in hard, his hips slamming into me, the bed creaking, the headboard thudding against the vine-patterned wall. I push back, meeting his thrusts, needing him deeper, needing all of him.
It’s a raw rhythm that fills the room, the slap of skin on skin, his grunts, my cries. “Hugh… fuck… yes…” All of it blending, echoing.
He pulls out, and I whimper, bereft, but he’s lifting me, carrying me to the wall, my back slamming against the cool wallpaper, my legs wrapping around his waist, locking tight. He drives into me, pinning me, his cock filling me, hard and fast.
“Fuck, Lauren, you feel so good,” he groans, his mouth on my neck, biting, sucking, his thrusts brutal, then slowing, teasing, dragging out each stroke until I’m begging, “Hugh, please, don’t do this to me. Harder…”
He speeds up, fucking me against the wall, savage, relentless, stealing my breath, making me gasp and moan and cry out. His name becomes a prayer on my lips.
“Hugh… Hugh… Yes…. Oh, Hugh…”
Somehow it registers that we’re back on the bed, tumbling, him on top, then me, straddling him, my hands on his chest. His fingers bruising my hips, as he guides me, and I’m nearly deranged from how exciting sex with him is, from how in sync we are. I ride him, slow at first, savoring the stretch, the fullness, then it’s fast, frenzied, my hips slamming down hard, and his thrusting up. The wet slap of our bodies, his hoarse cry…
“Fuck, baby, fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”
His words make me come. I shatter, my body convulsing, a silent scream tearing from my throat in disbelief at how completely my body gives up to him and in this moment, perhaps even my heart. It is beautiful. A little death. He follows immediately after, his body going rigid as he empties his seed into me with a groan that rocks us both.
We collapse, breathless, against the other. My chest heaves, my lungs burn, and my body trembles as I sink into him. He makes my heart melt even further by pulling me close, our skin slick with sweat, our breaths mingling, ragged and uneven. The sheets are a mess, half-off the bed, the duvet crumpled. He reaches to tug it over us, its heavy warmth settling like a shield, cocooning us.
I am surprised. I expected him to return to his room, to maintain some distance between us, however he doesn’t. But I’m not complaining. Instead, I truly appreciate the moment for how rare and special it is. So I press against him, my cheek on his chest, his heartbeat thundering under my ear.
I especially love how his strong arms encircle me, protective and caring. It would be extremely ungrateful of me to deny that he has shielded me and protected me from the worst of my troubles since I arrived. I love how my legs tangle with his.
We don’t speak as our bodies recover. There is no need to. I bask in the soft and intimate silence, and it doesn’t take long for me to drift off, and in no time, I am asleep in the only place my heart wants to be.