Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“It kills you to stay still, doesn’t it?” she teased, her grip tightening. “You want to bury yourself inside me. You want the pleasure of fucking my sweet pussy, don’t you?”
“Fuck yes,” I croaked.
“Beg for it, then.” Livia released my cock in an instant, hooking the loop on the collar and jerking so I was in a crunch staring up at her. “I’ll only give it to you if you want it bad enough.”
“Please, Livia,” I pleaded, my voice hoarse, cock aching as I tried to fuck the air like it could relieve me. “I need it. I need you. Please, let me fuck you. Please give me what I need.”
She seemed satisfied, her lips curling as she released me. I had to engage my core to not let my head slam back against the ground, and I’d no sooner laid down than she was grabbing me and lining me up right where I wanted to be.
Livia sat in a slow, torturous decline, taking all of me and moaning as she did. The sight was too much, especially with the view of her slightly swollen belly. I groaned and rolled my eyes up to the ceiling to stop from coming instantly.
“So fucking big,” she praised. “You fill me perfectly.”
And then her hips were rocking, slow and steady, like she was savoring every centimeter of me. I finally felt locked in enough to look up and watch her, and then my hands were wandering, roving over her breasts and nipples, teasing and toying until I found my way down to her clit.
“Yes,” she encouraged, rolling against the touch. “Fuck, that feels so good. I feel so fucking good right now, Carter.”
I groaned at the sound of my name in that breathy voice of hers. Livia started moving wildly then, bucking against my hand as she fucked my cock and used me to get her release. When she shook and moaned and cried out, I felt her tightening around me, and I couldn’t hold back.
She rode me hard as we both shattered, Livia leaning forward to clutch the collar and hold me there, owned and undone. I spilled beneath her with a ragged cry, her moans echoing mine until we collapsed in a heap of sweat and laughter.
But before I could even catch my breath, she leaned over me, eyes flashing. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” she whispered, dragging her lips along my jaw. “And apparently the new update of these pregnancy hormones is that I’m absolutely insatiable.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, not sure if I was excited or scared.
“So, you better get hard again for me, Rook. Round two starts now.”
I tried to laugh, but it was cut short when she squeezed me in her hand, already coaxing me back to life. “Jesus, woman,” I groaned, rolling us so she landed on her back with a gasp. I kissed her, deep and hungry, soaking up every sound she made. “Maybe I want to take the reins for this round. What do you think of that?”
She arched a brow as I hovered over her. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased, kissing the corner of her smirk. “You know you like it. When I remind you I’ve got you. That you’re safe with me. That you can let go and let me lead.”
Her sigh turned into a moan as I punctuated each of those promises with slow, lingering kisses across her breasts. Her hips arched into mine, thighs spreading to let me in, and I knew I had her.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I murmured against her neck. “You understand me? I’m going to cook you anything you crave. Run you a bath every night. Massage you until you’re moaning for me the way I love to hear. You’re going to let me dote on you, Livia Young, because I fucking said so.”
Her laugh was breathless, sultry. “God, I’ve never found it so hot to be bossed around.”
I smirked, pressing into her, voice rough with laughter and desire and a love so deep I thought it might break me.
“Funny,” I said. “That seems to be the number one turn on for me.”
And with the laugh I earned and cherished, I kissed her again — letting the night swallow us whole.
No Threats Necessary
Livia
June in Tampa tasted like salt and celebration, despite the fact that some might think we shouldn’t be celebrating at all. The air was heavy with summer, the kind that curled my hair and made it even harder to breathe than the little body crowding my organs.
There was a faint hum of laughter rolling out from the back deck of the waterfront house that belonged to the Ospreys General Manager. It was decorated and fully catered for the end-of-season party. Lights were strung across the railing, and they twinkled against the dark water, the downtown skyline barely visible off in the distance. Tampa felt like home more than ever in that moment.