Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Shit, Amelia,” he barks, reaching down and yanking me back up, rolling us again and returning the favour, licking and biting his way across my breasts. I whimper, my back arching violently, desire overwhelming me. Air is hard to find, my panting loud as his mouth crosses my stomach, his thumbs slipping up the sides of my knickers. Sweat starts to bead on my forehead as he inches the lace material down my legs, kissing his way onto the inside of my thighs.
Then he licks through my slickness and I cry out, my stomach muscles tightening, the stabs of pleasure sharp. Discarding my knickers, Jude gets to his knees and pulls me to mine, taking fistfuls of hair, holding me in place, his eyes wild, his hair in disarray. I breathe in his face, reaching for his boxers, and slip my palms inside onto his arse, stroking, feeling, watching him bracing himself as I edge them down and drag the tips of my fingers over his tight hips to his lower stomach. I brush lightly through the hair, down, down, down, as my tongue leaves my mouth and licks across his parted lips. A low, supressed grunt vibrates at the back of his throat, and he waits, his body rolling with mine as I move my touch to the very root of his arousal, delivering teasing, feathery strokes with the tips of my fingers across the length of him. I reach the weeping head and wrap my fist around him, rubbing my thumb through his precum, fascinated by the darkening of his hooded eyes, starting to work him, slow and steady. His grip of my hair increases. His face strains beautifully, his head dropping back, giving me access to his neck. Moving in, I worship his throat with my mouth, his dark-blond scruff rough against my lips and tongue.
His Adam’s apple bulges from his swallow, and his hand is suddenly over mine on his dick. “Stop.” He strains the word, his breathing becoming rapid. “Just give me . . . I need . . . Fuck, give me a second.”
I wait while he gathers himself, feel him throbbing in my unmoving hand, returning to his neck and inhaling his manly scent, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. He suppresses a low, deep growl, pulling me away by my hair.
Looking down at me, he scans my damp face, moving his hands onto my cheeks, stroking softly. “I didn’t expect this, Amelia.” He pushes me down to my back and crawls up my body, blanketing me. “There’s no going back after this.” He shifts his hips and slides into me, inhaling sharply, and his eyes clench shut, the strain on his face just fucking beautiful.
“Yes,” I breathe, as he fills me inch by inch until I’m full to the brim with him, my walls throbbing, gripping. The fullness, the rightness. It makes my head spin. I feel so incredibly free trapped beneath his hard body.
“Breathe,” he whispers, remaining still, allowing me to meld around him.
I didn’t realise I was holding my breath. I exhale, bending my legs, opening them wider. “God, you feel good.” I can feel every pulse of him inside me.
“Yeah?” he replies, gruff, wedging his fists into the mattress to hold up his torso. He grinds, withdrawing, advancing, and every move makes the muscles in his arms and chest swell and ripple.
The heels of my feet wedge into the backs of his thighs. “Yeah.” I roll up, meeting his next drive, and his chin drops to his chest, his teeth clenched. Taking another moment. And I’m happy to let him, happy to watch him dealing with the sensations. He looks so stunning, his face pained with pleasure. Tilting his hips, he starts moving again, driving in and out methodically, the friction perfect, each thrust hitting me satisfyingly deep.
My head is empty except for my appreciation and the pleasure being inflicted on me. I could stay here forever. Watch him forever. Feel like this forever.
I reach for his face, smooth over the creases as he looks up through his lashes, his hair falling onto his forehead. I would walk off the edge of a cliff if he told me to right now. That’s the level of impact. That’s the deepness of this moment.
Balancing on one hand, Jude moves one of mine to above my head, then lowers to a forearm, stroking his other hand up the inside of my arm and lacing our fingers, gripping hard.
“Kiss me,” he whispers against my lips, and I obey, tackling his mouth fiercely, my urgency upping the pace of his drives. I hum, moan, flex my hand in his, claw my nails into his shoulder. The pressure is building, the heat travelling through my body to my head. His dick expands within me, and he squeezes my hand tight, pushing it into the mattress.