Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Last night, both in the shower and on the floor next to the bed we destroyed, we explored with a tenderness I’ve never held an interest in but will now crave.
This morning’s romp is on the other end of the spectrum.
I’m driving her to the brink of insanity one impatient yet calculated pump at a time.
And Miranda can’t get enough.
She claws at my back and screams my name as her tight cunt ripples around my unsheathed shaft. She feels so fucking good, bare and slick.
The need to come is clawing at me, thrumming through my veins as rampantly as Miranda’s taste flooded my tongue when I woke her by consuming her pussy for breakfast.
I spread her wide with my shoulders before I parted a pussy that tastes as sweet as honey with my fingers.
Pre-cum leaked from my cock when I marveled at the feast in front of me.
I toyed with her clit until the word I was desperately seeking slipped from her O-formed mouth.
“Please.”
Then I went to town on her pussy. I rubbed at her clit with my thumb while I pushed my tongue deep inside her.
Her pussy quivered around my tongue as it does my cock now when she’s swamped by a blinding orgasm for the second time this morning.
The pressure of her tight squeezes on my cock is exquisite. I want to come, to follow her down the blistering side alley of sex and euphoria, but I hold back the urge, needing more.
More tension.
More connection.
More her.
My butterfly is soaring so high that her wings will never be clipped, but I can’t let go just yet. There’s still so much to do, so many mistakes to right, and at least a dozen more orgasms she was depraved of by a weasel with a corn kernel for a cock.
Miranda’s body tenses as her back arches. Her climax is draining but also giving. It sparks fresh hope in her eyes and clears away the last smidge of unease hours of foreplay, touching, and fucking couldn’t remove.
We didn’t solely spend our night twisted beneath sheets. We also talked. I kept my replies basic, not wanting to scare her, but she knows that I’m in distribution and entertainment. She’s just unaware that I distribute drugs across the globe and that most entertainment in Vegas includes strippers and prostitutes.
In all honesty, I don’t think she will be bothered, but Nikolai’s business plan isn’t mine to share. I’m paid a hefty sum to assist in the running of his multiple billion-dollar businesses, and I would rather be a dead man than a tattler.
When Miranda returns from the clouds of lust her climax surged her to, I thrust hard, putting my weight behind my pumps.
As her pussy ripples around me, she moans my name again while signs of an imminent orgasm resurface.
“Fuck, printsessa. You’re going to make up for those years of a dry spell in days at this rate.”
I cuss again, inwardly this time, frustrated that she makes me so unhinged that I’m unknowingly sharing guarded secrets.
It was the same last night. Usually, I shut down any “get to know me” conversations within seconds of them jumping from the gate. I struggle doing that with Miranda. I want her to know me. The real me.
And the proof is undeniable when I say, “Take me. Let me in. I want you to feel me every time you shift an inch today.”
The worried expression on her face softens before she does as asked. The already generous sweep of her thighs widens more as the movements of my hips slow. We’re still fucking, desperately, but it isn’t the dirty, hard romp I instigated when I woke her. It is more intimate, with a lot of eye contact and hungry, yearn-filled kisses.
I break our embrace when a vise-like grip pulls my balls in close to my body before I reach down between us.
Miranda’s breaths are as hot as the slickness coating my shaft when I roll her clit with my thumb. Her nails claw at the sheets before she bundles them into her palm.
“You’re so deep.”
The need in her voice and the way she looks up at me while I pound into her are my undoing.
An endless moan pours out of me as beads of cum shoot from my cock.
Miranda joins me.
She writhes against me, open and defenseless as the annoying bellow of an alarm clock shrieks from her purse dumped in the corner of the room.
“I’m so sorry.” As Miranda moves around her home, gathering her things, she continues offering up apologies I don’t deserve. “I hate to eat and run, but this client has done amazing things for the creative side of my business, and I really don’t want to disappoint her.”
Her smile at the start of her sentence ensures I know she isn’t mentioning the food we shared yesterday.