Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
“Look at you, all this from me sitting in your lap,” I toss his words back at him, unable to hide the slight tremble of my lips when he moves his fingers faster, and as much as I try to keep up, it’s impossible.
“Fuck yeah, the only question is, who’s going to come first?” The tension in the room builds, fast, sharp. Every small movement we make only makes it worse, makes it harder to think, and all I can do is feel.
“Toren,” I moan his name, head tipping back, eyes closing, chasing the high he’s hell bent on giving me.
“Just like that. Keep fisting my cock while you milk my fingers.” I add another layer to the momentum, going to the tips of my toes, lifting up and down. Honestly, it’s a miracle we’re both able to achieve what we have so far, a tangle of limbs, breathless, sweating. Our combined moans alone make the experience heady. Add in that his fingers are magical as hell, my wetness guiding his path, and in one quick move, Toren’s mouth latches on to mine.
It’s wild.
It’s possessive.
And it’s everything I’ve never experienced before.
“Motherfucker.” I twist my wrist, thumb sweeping over the tip, coming away with more of his precum, and I’m once again at war with what I want more: to orgasm, to get Toren off with my hand, or to do what I really want—wrap my mouth around him and taste him directly from the source. “Can feel you, so wet, so tight, so fuckin’ mine.”
“Tor.” His name comes out like a broken whisper. Toren’s hand wraps around mine, helping me keep a steady rhythm while he still works me up.
“Fuck yeah, cherry. Knew you’d be beautiful coming for me. Got to hear it last night, got to experience in the flesh tonight.” His words, his actions, they’re more than I could have ever thought possible. He comes in my hand in thick ropes splattering his lower abdomen, and when his fingers slip out of my pussy, I’m at a loss for words.
He paints my lips with my essence, drawing it like a woman would put lipstick on when she’s getting ready for a date. I keep still, unsure of what he’ll do next, and once again, Toren shocks me. He brings my hand away from his still hard cock, gathering some of his mess from his abdomen, and repeats the process.
“Lick your lips, cherry, taste us.” His eyes darken further. I had no idea that would be possible. I do as he says. The man is impossible to resist, especially when everything he’s done thus far has been out-of-this-world amazing.
“Tor,” I moan his name as my tongue skates across my lips, and that’s when he attacks, claiming my lips like he’s claimed me entirely. The breath is taken from my lungs yet given back in the same instant. His hand tangles deep into the hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my head for the perfect angle, while the other stays locked on my hip.
What started as desperate, nearly bruising pressure quicky shifts to intoxicating. Toren pulls my lower lip between his teeth, a playful nip that makes me gasp and causes him to deepen the kiss further. I chase after him, never wanting this moment to end.
When he pulls back, it isn’t because he wants to, but because we both need air to breathe. Still, we stay locked in our embrace, my forehead meeting his, our chests heaving, and our bodies a ruined mess.
“That certainly changes things. It changes everything, cherry. Not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”
“Yeah, it most certainly does,” I agree, a small smile tipping my lips. Toren returns one of his own, and I’m once again caught in his magnetic hold.
13
Toren
“Are you sure you’re good with this? I don’t want you signing a contract just because you want to be with me. I’m kind of a sure thing as it is, you know,” Indy says with a wink. Breakfast was messy. It was also so goddamn beautiful, the beating thing in my chest aches. The way she fell apart for me, the look in her eyes, and realizing I had everything right in the palm of my hands, fuck yeah, this is what my friends have and what I’m going after.
“Cherry, give me the damn pen. I’m more than happy with it. You realize what Miranda is giving me as payment is damn near a house here in Florida.” It might be a fixer upper or a starter home, but it’s a hell of a lot more than most artists have offered to them. At least that’s what Jett told me when I asked her to look over the paperwork Indy sent me last night. I could have gone to Matthew, a lawyer friend in town, but figured the contract was pretty cut and dry. Jett confirmed it and let out a low whistle while reading over it. She’ll also get a sizable bonus or raise, whatever she chooses. Hell, without my cousin, the majority of this wouldn’t be possible. I damn sure couldn’t make a living off it.